Fidelitas
by Azii
Summary: Why would an exorcist contract a demon? Sebastian finds what he expected: a vengeful and determined master with a utilitarian agenda and a very powerful enemy. But what must he forfeit to gain her soul? Modern AU. Sebastian X OC. Rated M.
1. Opening

NB: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

I've re-written this chapter because I didn't think Sebastian was badass enough in its first iteration. I hope I've rectified that. If you're a re-reader, let me know how you like the edits. If you're new, let me know what like or don't like.

Content warnings include violence and mild language. Do enjoy.

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><p>Sebastian paced. His long, purposeful strides would wear grooves into the hardwood floor if he didn't <em>move<em> soon. She'd been captured. _No, _he corrected himself, _she allowed herself to be captured. _She'd sent him away and left herself exposed so that they would come. And they always come. Sebastian had made a habit out of serving masters with vigilant enemies. Such masters were invariably determined, fierce, and infinitely more _fun_ than garden variety contractors. And they tasted better. So, when Alexandra Nikolayevich, exorcist and magician extraordinaire, told him that she needed to gather information about the group of religious fanatics that served her family up as a ritual sacrifice, Sebastian simply nodded in that non-concerned way of his. When she told him that she'd be getting part of this information by seducing members of said group, he merely raised a perfectly arched eyebrow to register his mild surprise. It was when she told him that she needed to _"_confirm_"_ the information she'd obtained and that he'd have to clear off while she left herself open to abduction that he voiced his objections.

"Master, this is terribly foolish. You cannot ask me to _not _protect you. I am supposed to be your bodyguard."

"No, you're supposed to be my _demon_, so do try to act like one and do what I ask you to do."

"You are aware that I need not follow any order which violates our contract. Endangering your life is a violation."

"What danger is there to my life? I have you. I just ask that you wait to save me until I have what I need."

He grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around, intending to convey in no uncertain terms how he felt about her so-called plan. Alexandra's eyes were drawn to the place where long pale fingers were wrapped around her elbow. "These are unusually dangerous people." She didn't hear him, remaining fixated on his hand, looking up only after he had understood her meaning. _Take your hand off me. _He dropped her arm with a heavy sigh. "Forgive me."

"I've explained before. We should maintain our physical distance unless we find ourselves in a situation which requires proximity." It wasn't spoken with forcefulness or anger, but gently, rather like one might address an uncomprehending child. She rubbed her forehead tiredly and closed her eyes. "Sebastian, this will doubtless come as a surprise to you, but you _are _a demon." A wink in his general direction, a brief smile before she looked away. "And you well know that I'm no uninitiated novice. I know you have the power to make humans _want_ with all the destructive intensity of an inferno. But I've no intention of falling into that trap. Distractions are a luxury I cannot afford." _And you would be so very distracting if I lower my defenses, _she thought wearily.

"Of course." He said it politely enough, but indignation burned his insides. _How dare you? It is too late for self-righteousness, is it not?_ She was behaving as though he was defiling her simply by being in her presence - as if his touch would somehow condemn her twice. Wasn't she the one who'd summoned him? Sebastian had perfected his understanding of human nature over lifetimes, and he knew with relative certainty that she wanted him in a manner not entirely becoming for an exorcist. And judging by the way she was avoiding looking at him now, she wanted him _desperately_. If only he could catch her with her defenses lowered, he'd have her limbs tangled up in her bed sheets, her hair a tousled mess, and her lips calling his name over and over as he demonstrated to her exactly how mistaken she was to think that she wielded the power in their relationship. She'd learn; Sebastian only pretended subservience. The image taking shape in his mind elicited a small smirk, but his tone retained its seriousness. "They have a great deal of magical power at their disposal. I am not sure you appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"I need to discover the source of that power. You're not afraid of a little magic, are you? I thought I had contracted a particularly powerful demon. I'm afraid I'll have to replace you if you are unable to perform." There it was—the playfulness in her tone, the challenge in her eyes, the way she knew how deeply possessive he was and the fact that she manipulated this possessiveness with such careless ease. _I am going to thoroughly enjoy devouring your soul….and everything else_, he thought as he wordlessly nodded his assent. _You will yield to me. Everyone does. _

"It would be imprudent to attack you again after I dispatched their compatriots so brutally." He was speaking, of course, of the night they formed their contract.

"Oh, they'll come. They want me eliminated. And that's why I need you to make yourself scarce for the next few weeks. There's no other way. I want them to think that I nullified our contract because I was filled with regret. They will have no trouble believing that I'd rather die than be condemned. I'd been such a dedicated servant of God, after all."

"So you want them to think that you've traded your life to get your soul back? It's impossible. Such things once lost can never be regained. I suppose you want them to think that _you_ _think_ you can re-claim your lost soul?"

"Well, it sounds positively absurd when you put it like that. The point is that it matters very little what they think. They can question my motivations until they've had their fill so long as they make a move. I want you to wait for them to do so."

"I've not yet heard an explicit command."

"Nor will you. Despite what you think, I am acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. A command will limit you. If I am incapacitated, I'd still like you to come for me." She looked at him reassuringly. "I'll call for you. If I don't call for you, then do what you will."

And so two weeks later, he paced the library waiting for the telltale prick of heat on the back of his left hand. Her call should have come hours ago, and waiting around made him feel like a tightly coiled spring likely to snap at any moment. _This was unforgivably foolish of you, master. _He stopped pacing and caught her perfume of jasmine and hyacinth. _You gave me leave to do what I will. _Moving at long last and tracking her by scent, he followed her through the city with supernatural swiftness.

He was led to the stone cellar of a bookstore in the old city. It was a crumbling building whose walls collected far too much moisture. Mold blossomed along the stones, looking like patches of tiny black and green flowers growing against a sunless sky. Sebastian carefully looked through the grime-covered windows to plan his attack, but there was no one in the cellar except his master and one other man. Alexandra was bound to a wooden chair, her arms behind her back and her feet tied to its legs. She was gagged. The man loomed over her, talking at her. He seemed to be teetering with barely constrained excitement. Sebastian listened, memorizing his words. Alexandra would never forgive him if he interrupted her just as she was receiving her precious information.

"Alex Nikolayevich. Tricky little bitch, aren't you? But you're not so untouchable without your protector. Did you go running back to that God of yours? Is that why your bodyguard isn't here? Who'll save you now? The master is coming for you." The man grabbed her chin aggressively, fingers digging into her jaw, but she said nothing. There was no protesting glare, no defiant gesture of any kind. In fact, her eyes were barely open. _Foolish._ Sebastian mentally scolded her, but he listened on. "He's going to take his time. You'll beg for death." The man leered at Alexandra and violently jerked her head back by grabbing a handful of long curls. Sebastian's hands had curled involuntarily into tense fists, but still he waited. The captor pulled out a small knife, a smattering of silver that seemed out of place in such dank surroundings. He slid it under her gag and the cloth was cut cleanly away. "Now, your Grace, on your knees like a pious little girl." The knife was at Alexandra's neck now, the man's other hand pulling at the zipper of his pants. She was still unresponsive. Sebastian broke the window with his gloved fist and swooped in, landing cat-like on the cellar floor and appearing at his master's side almost instantaneously. Her captor had not yet fully unzipped his pants when he felt his own knife being plunged into his chest. The man looked down, wondering what had happened, and then he saw that his arm had been bent at an unnatural angle and that there were long, gloved fingers wrapped around his wrist. He looked back up, frozen in terror at the malice dripping from Sebastian's smile.

"Please don't touch my master." Sebastian's tone was light, cheerful even. The man growled angrily, but Sebastian simply tutted and pulled the knife out of the man's chest, sliding it smoothly across his throat. He discarded it without cermony or comment. It clanged prettily as it hit the stone floor, followed immediately by the crumbling sound of a falling corpse. Stepping over the dead body casually, he turned his attention to Alexandra. "Master?" He kneeled in front of her and lifted her chin gently with a finger. Her eyes were glazed and she was making barely audible noises. He shook her gently. "Master?" Nothing. The ropes binding her hands and feet unraveled themselves with a quick nod, and she fell forward into his arms. He sat back, cradling her carefully, and then he started checking for injuries. Apart from slight rope burn, there wasn't a scratch_. _

"Ghn." Her mouth moved, but the words issuing from it were nothing more than disoriented grunts. He held her head steady. She was unusually warm, even through his gloves. He forced open an eyelid and saw that her pupils were dialated and that the whites looked disturbingly pink. Her pulse was slow, far too slow. _Poisoned. _

"Forgive me. I'm doing what I must." He pressed his lips to hers, barely registering their softness before using his long tongue to lick her lips, tongue, teeth, anything that would give some indication of the nature of the poison coursing through her bloodstream. She did not resist. There was a very familiar bitter note amongst the warm moistness. _Opiates. How utterly predictable, and how convenient. Short work, this. _Sebastian sighed dramatically, and when he eyed her again, he smiled roguishly. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid that you're going to enjoy this. Immensely." With that, he sank his teeth into the base of her neck. Demons are not vampiric; they do not need blood to live, nor do they particularly enjoy the taste of it, but like vampires their teeth are sharp when necessary and they have an uncanny ability to stir desires with their touch. They are magical, and so even though Sebastian had never filtered morphine from a human's bloodstream before (and thought the idea rather silly), he was nevertheless certain of success. He simply had to _bend_ her body to his will and it would allow him to draw the drug out like venom from a snake bite. Sebastian felt Alexandra's heart flutter as he worked. He supposed that he could have achieved the same results by being less _tactile_, but he saw no reason to change methods now. He smiled as her heart continued to race. _I warned you. _She inhaled suddenly. Even at her most stubborn she could not deny the expression of pleasure in _that _moan. _I could have her in any manner I choose right now, and she'd submit unhesitatingly, willingly. _He closed his eyes against the indelicate thoughts that threatened to undo his meticulously maintained bodyguard's aesthetic.

Sebastian held her tight to his chest as he carried her home, absconding from the cellar like black mist and appearing merely minutes later in the foyer. Although lucid now and out of immediate danger, she was still demonstrably tired and not quite herself. She had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and buried her face in his neck. He was comfortingly warm, and she relaxed a bit, easing into his arms, allowing this warmth to wash over her. The cellar had been quite cold. Her lips were at his ear. "Thank you." He nodded silently and pulled her closer. She responded by tightening her arms and burrowing into him more deeply, inhaling his scent. _Where is that physical distance you're so determined to maintain now, master? _After bringing her upstairs, he laid her on the sofa in the drawing room. Her arm lingered around his neck longer than necessary, but Sebastian removed it dutifully and placed it gently on her chest. He checked her pulse and pupils once more before moving across the room to maintain his vigil.

He watched her sleep. She rarely slept so soundly, and as he indulged in watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, he smiled softly. She had stretched herself out luxuriously on the black leather sofa. It had been a long day. Sebastian sat perfectly still, an elegant specter amongst the shadows. Hours passed uneventfully. Night fell and the furnishings took on sinister shapes as the moonlight filtered through the high, mullioned windows. He continued looking across the room at his two years' master. He'd known his share of contractors. Some were beautiful, some were noble, most were interesting, and ever so often he'd been contracted to someone for whom he felt something more than obligation. But he'd never been contracted to someone as _powerful_ as Alexandra Nikolayevich. She was an exorcist; she'd driven dozens of his kind back to Hell without hesitation. She had been a ruthlessly efficient agent of God. And when served up as a sacrifice by the enemies of the Lord whom she served so diligently, her pleas for help fell upon His deaf ears. Appeals for angelic protection having failed, she'd solicited help from a demon. He wondered if it had been momentary weakness on her part. Regret might have plagued her since the day the covenant was formed. Humans are so _fascinating_, he thought. _Even beaten and broken, they'll rise from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix, more resplendent than ever before._ He'd seen this ebb and flow play out over millennia. Alexandra was one of the many who craved revenge and engaged his services. But she was different. And he was intrigued. Her magical power coupled with a single-minded obsession made her a very unique, if at times frustrating, master.

She shivered and pulled her arms tighter around her chest as if she felt his thoughts. Sebastian rose quietly, removed his heavy woolen overcoat and draped it over her body. He stood over her still form, admiring the curve of her hips and the way her full lips were parted seductively in her sleep. He raised a gloved hand, fingers curled inward, and brushed away a strand of ebony hair that had been caught in her eyelashes. Eyelids fluttered gently open and she woke, brown eyes still heavy with sleep. She inhaled deeply and stretched her arms over her head.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked huskily, sitting up and placing his coat neatly over the sofa's arm. It smelled of sandalwood and sin and a small shudder of desire worked its way up her spine. He sank down on the sofa next to her, seemingly determined to capitalize on this feeling.

"Six hours. I would have woken you, master, but you looked so peaceful. I must admit, I rather enjoyed the novelty of it." He grinned, and the tiniest of white fangs flashed against disarmingly pink lips. She knew that he wanted her; it was a predictable side effect of their contract, an expression of a demon's natural possessiveness. He'd been pursuing that particular variety of ownership since the beginning, but she wasn't an ordinary contractor, and so she knew that physical intimacy with a demon carried meaning that was often lost on unwitting prey. To be marked by Sebastian in such a way was to consummate his total possession. She could not give him _everything, _she reasoned_. _Some things are sacrosanct. Alexandra closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. He was proving to be the worst kind of trouble, in every possible way.

"Shut up. And stop calling me master. You're supposed to be my bodyguard not my butler, remember? It's politically incorrect to have a butler these days."

"Yes, of course." Sebastian moved across the room to the bar. He poured coffee into a ceramic mug and added a large measure of cream and sugar. He sat down on the couch and handed it to her.

"You're a saint," Alexandra said with a mischievous smile on her lips. He groaned; he hated her horrid puns. She sipped the coffee. It was fresh; he'd made it while she slept. "Always above and beyond the call of duty...how is it that I landed the most domesticated demon in Hell?" She arched a playful eyebrow in his direction.

"Our contract stipulates that I assist you in achieving your revenge and that I protect your life along the way. Surely, providing some stimulation for said quest lies well within the bounds of my duty." His crimson eyes were set alight for the briefest of instances. She didn't miss the double entendre. He didn't miss the want in her gaze. Discipline was fighting a losing battle with desire there; he felt the tension as if it were his own. Preternatural hearing caught the slight increase in her heart rate and he leaned in, allowing his breath to fan her face for a minute as he removed the coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the end table. She seemed rooted to the spot. He gently pressed their lips together. Sebastian wanted to seduce her, to provide an indication that he'd be willing to fulfill her every need if she'd ask. He could certainly _take_ what he wanted, and _will_ her to enjoy the taking, but he had discovered that masters who give themselves up are far more satisfying, both in flesh and in soul. And so he played at seduction; he never expected her to respond. She'd been resistant thus far. But respond she did, taking his lips between hers and tugging at them gently. He smiled against her mouth. This was much better than anticipated. Her hands pressed lightly against his chest and his own worked their way up her sides and wrapped around her, drawing her close. Before she realized, she was stretched out again on the sofa, skilled hands and fingers working feverishly against her clothes. Alexandra typically remained so distant that she bristled even at the slightest accidental contact between them. Having her so _unguarded_ was a heady sensation, and Sebastian intended to savor every tremor in her body until she fell apart spectacularly under his touch. He worked a hand under her blouse, testing the limits, and finding none he crooked his other hand under a knee and lifted her leg. It was then that she came again to her senses. She pushed him until both were upright, hands remaining on his chest, fingers circling in nervous spirals on his shirt. She was slightly out of breath. "Stop...Please stop."

"I would never presume to touch you, master," he said smoothly, "but I saw invitation in your eyes. You betrayed yourself, did you not?" There was neither apology nor accusation in his voice, but if she'd listened carefully, she'd have heard finely controlled frustration. He'd waited two years, carefully cultivating her soul, crafting its taste to very discerning preferences, and while he was sure the feast would be worth each agonizing moment of wait, the fact that he could not distract his hunger by tasting of her flesh was endlessly exasperating. He was a demon, after all; not a humanitarian. And she belonged to him anyway.

"Yes, you marked it well. I did want….No. I _do_….want….you." Downcast eyes remained averted. To him she looked ashamed of this confession. He felt his anger rising, but realized that there was reservation in her tone that was uncharacteristic. In fact, she'd never been so conflicted. She looked up at him with brows furrowed and pain etched in the planes of her face. Sighing softly, he removed her hands from his chest. "I shouldn't have acted on my desire. I can't get carried away, Sebastian. We're bound. But I have too much to do to get caught up in tangential affairs. Besides, you're an illusion and I be-"

"-you belong to someone else. Yes, I know. I'm only a means to avenge _him. _You've made that quite clear." He would not know where those words came from, or what he hoped to gain by voicing them. He'd likely have said that he was exhausted and frustrated, and consequently, not at all himself.

"Seb-" He stood abruptly and walked out of the room. In the wake of the night's events, Alexandra couldn't help but be flattered by his jealousy and staggered by his sentimentality. She did not buy into popular opinion; she knew that demons did, in fact, feel. Their feelings were muted, mere echoes of their human counterparts, dulled by the desensitizing ravages of time, to be sure, but that these feelings existed was never in doubt. She shook her head. She was in no shape to piece together his feelings when her own were so muddled. She felt something for him; of that she was certain. Demons were consistent fixtures in her professional life, and while they could all be devastatingly attractive and charming, Sebastian bore a sadness that was almost palpable. _It makes him almost human_, she thought ironically. It was evident in the way he had provided his own contractual name, as though the words 'Sebastian Michaelis' were the key to a mystery contained in that lithe body, hidden in the depths of those rhinestone eyes. She wondered about the master who'd first given him that name. Oftentimes, Alexandra forgot that it was the demon playing the role of Sebastian rather than vice-versa. _He's in so much pain. What could have happened to him_? They were alike, she realized, more than either would care to admit. Relief flooded in. For a moment she considered the possibility of having real feelings for a demon. But this was most definitely not the case. Her attachment was nothing more than a product of his attractive shell coupled with an emotional resonance. Having resolved her own feelings, she sought him out in hopes that she might resolve his. An exorcist, after all, is in the business of understanding the ways demons work.

He was in the library, just as she expected. He had arranged himself rather regally, facing away from the entrance and gazing into the fireplace. The room was completely dark except from the soft glow of dancing flames in the grate. She walked resolutely to his chair and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Reaching up without turning his head, he squeezed it to convey attentiveness. Angry or not, she was still his master, and he was nothing if not dutiful. She walked around him, sinking to the floor and settling a shaky hand on his knee. The flames were reflected in his eyes, causing them to flicker in shades of orange and red. She inhaled sharply. _I bet even angels envy his beauty._ He smiled knowingly, fully aware of the effect he sometimes had upon humans. Perhaps it was her determination to resist that intrigued him so much. "Sebastian, what we're feeling is to be expected, but we both know that it's not real or meaningful. We're drawn to each other because of the contract, yes, but also because we share the same volatility. Like oxygen and sparks….when they meet, one element is consumed, yes, but all else is lost in conflagration. And like that fire, we'll burn everything if we don't check our desires."

"How very poetic." He said it quietly, but it landed forcefully, effecting a shocked silence on her part. "But you'll forgive me if I don't share your humanly concern for everything….or anything at all. You forget that I'm no besotted human lover you can keep at arm's length to save your own conscience. Your husband is dead, and your pretense of fidelity is a farce. You are already mine, whether that is _meaningful_ enough for you or not. You would do well to remember that." Alexandra's shoulder blade blazed with the heat from the seal of their covenant. She was his. None of her clever machinations would change that. The carnelian orbs fixed her with much more than lust; anger and possessiveness were waging war behind the cool mask of his face, and she was rather frightened of him now. The world-weariness and sadness which had been so alluring earlier dissipated. She was indeed manipulating him, and he'd known all the while. She'd used his unceasing hunger and attraction to her power, but always from a safe distance. Surrendering to temptation, even temporarily, might have pushed him too far. "You are fortunate, my _dear_ master, that I do not claim my due. Exorcist or no, you cannot repel me if we've made a covenant." She nodded dumbly, knowing how very true those words were, but making no move to resume their earlier physical intimacy. She only squeezed his knee as she had his shoulder, hoping that the gesture would be interpreted as a promise of future gratification of a different sort.

"I really am sorry. I know you must be frustrated." Her voice was steady, but Sebastian could see a pearly tear clinging to the corner of her lashes, although he had no clue why she'd be so distraught. Nevertheless, his anger rolled off him in waves. She'd displayed considerable weakness tonight, and while it wasn't the satisfaction he wanted, he knew it would add a richer resonance to the flavor of her soul. He would never be mistaken for a patient man, but he was most certainly a meticulous one. "I learned something that might prove to be a catharsis….for the both of us," she said, measuring each syllable carefully, lest he be provoked further. He looked inquiringly at her. There was a triumphant gleam in her eye, and a ghost of a smile danced on her lips. "Rasputin is alive. He's the source of their magical power."

"That's why you were left so under-protected." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, they assumed that I'd be completely incapacitated by the morphine, and so they foolishly left me there to summon him, knowing that he would want to finish me personally."

"You _were_ completely incapacitated. Again, consider yourself fortunate. Any other demon would have let you die without being given an explicit order to save your life."

"And any other demon would have taken advantage of me when he brought me home in such a state." He was startled into silence. "You mistake my trust in your civility for my expectation of it. That's a lack of precision not easily forgiven." They remained still for a long time, each considering the strangeness of their relationship. Two years had passed, two years that had inched by at a snail's pace as she gathered information about those responsible for her shattered life. Sebastian had been her constant companion during that time. He'd been her trusted partner as she navigated through blood-soaked back alleys and duplicitous informants. She trusted him with her life, but he could not do so much as take her arm if she wasn't in immediate danger. He hated the bald hypocrisy of it-to think she'd refuse to remit her body when her soul was already in his possession. She hated the fact that he'd not attempted to take by force what she'd denied him time and again. If he'd done so, she'd feel justified in enforcing their physical distance. If he'd done so, she would know without a doubt that he was evil. But she could take comfort in neither of these sentiments, and that only made Alexandra feel confused and antagonistic. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, speaking softly to him afterwards and keeping her tone even so that she did not betray again how her thoughts lingered on him. "Anyway, we have a target now. And I think he might be quite the diversion."

"Indeed he might, master." Sebastian's velvet voice was edged with danger and excitement. He'd known of Rasputin's existence, of course, but Alexandra needed to work it out for herself, so he allowed her the agency to do so. But now the time had come to make the kill, and he would relish watching such a powerful magician crumble under his fingers. And then, he'd have her soul and there would be no need to worry over the trifle of her body. He returned her smile, anticipation creeping across his lips seductively.

"And Sebastian…." Alexandra's voice resumed its customary lilt as she got to her feet, once again placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder while walking past.

"Yes?"

"Stop calling me master."


	2. Middlegame

NB: I still don't own Kuroshitsuji, and I still love your feedback. Thank you to all who reviewed, and all of you who put this on your story alert. I am madly in love with every single one of you. I'm trying desperately to get better, so please do let me know what you like and/or dislike. This chapter may be a bit thin on Sebastian in the beginning, but fear not dear readers. He'll be back with a vengeance at the end of this chapter, and I'll be sure to throw in some seductive!Sebastian in the next one.

Oh, and also keep in mind that I've mangled Russian history to suit my own selfish interests. Content warnings include off-camera sex and language.

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><p>Alexandra slept restlessly; the next morning found her more exhausted than she was before she went to bed. It was difficult to determine which of her immediate concerns had contributed the most to her sleeplessness-the prospect of finally eliminating the so-called holy man who snatched her happiness from her, the realization that his elimination would mean her death, or the reoccurring feeling of breathlessness every time she thought about how Sebastian's gloved hands had trailed hotly up her body. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. <em>Get it together. The man you love is gone, along with your son. You're attached to Sebastian because you need him. That is all. <em>She exhaled and walked downstairs in search for the demon.

He was nowhere to be found. She walked the entire mansion, and after returning to the library for the third time, opted for efficiency over courtesy. "Sebastian, I order you to come." He didn't. She waited. Something had gone horribly wrong. Their seal usually prickled with heat when she gave a command. There was nothing. _Did he nullify the contract?_ Last night's brief lapse in judgment flashed in her mind. _Great_, she thought, _now I'll have to contend with a passive-aggressive demonic entity with serious boundary issues_. Why was he so much trouble?

"You can run, Sebastian. But you know better than to hide." Alexandra walked purposefully to the kitchen. She pulled a container of salt from the pantry and stalked back to the library, grabbing a number of candles from various empty rooms along the way. The hodge-podge of candles were hastily arranged in a circle on the rug, one in the center, and then she poured a trail of salt to connect them. It was a rather sloppy pentacle but it would suffice. She vowed to make that pretty-boy would-be seducer clean it up when found. Taking a small penknife from her desk drawer, she switched it open and sliced into her hand. The blood pooled quickly in her palm. Bending forward, she lifted the center candle and overturned her palm onto the flame, dripping blood onto the pentacle drawn on the floor. The searing heat in the open wound was nearly unbearable.

"_Ostendite_," she intoned and closed her eyes, waiting for the images to flood in. She gasped; suddenly all the air had been sucked from the room. The candle slipped from her grasp and sputtered out as she collapsed. Grainy roughness of salt scraped against her cheek. Still fighting for breath, she kept her eyes resolutely closed, knowing well that the spell would hold only as long as she could. Before they flew open, she registered flashes of glittering silver light-a crystalline box of sorts, surrounding her on all sides. It sparkled ominously but she could not see beyond the shimmering walls that imprisoned her. There was no way out. Air flooded her lungs as the enchantment broke. Her sides had cramped up from the loss of it, and to compensate she drew breath far too quickly. The pain intensified, bringing tears to her eyes. A full hour passed before she regained the strength to pull herself off the floor.

Under a too-hot shower, Alexandra cobbled together a plan. After wrapping herself in a towel, she wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror and looked into it appraisingly. She took in her long ebony curls, the fullness of her lips, and the mischievous glint in her eyes. Although she rarely thought of herself as anything but skillful, she was told that she was beautiful frequently enough to believe it. It was a genetic gift, she supposed, and not necessarily something worthy of pride. She'd inherited the Romanovs' pronounced brows and aquiline noses. Her dark features were particularly striking against her pale skin and if sartorial tastes tended towards shades of grey or black on any given day, she looked positively vampiric. Sebastian was uncharacteristically moody on those days. _I too can be seductive_, she thought, gazing into the mirror. _You don't consort with a demon for two years without learning a trick or two._

A practical pair of jeans over heeled black leather boots seemed the best choice of dress. Her leather jacket was tight-fitting enough to trip all the right sensors without giving the illusion of effort. She wore nothing underneath it, deciding that practical concerns outweighed those of personal comfort. A wicked smile played across her lips as she slipped into the backseat of her car. What's the point of beauty if you can't put it to use?

"Where?" her driver Yuri asked dutifully.

"John's. Quickly."

"You are up to no good, Sasha. I can tell from that smile," he said as he started the car. Alexandra smiled benignly at him from the back seat and then looked out the tinted window. Petersburg flitted past, gray and crumbling. She loved the city, even if had become a shadow of its former splendor. It was, after all, her ancestral home. The surviving Romanovs fled to Paris after the Revolution, and her branch of the family eventually landed in America. There they had remained, but she returned to mother Russia without a backwards glance upon claiming her inheritance. And what an inheritance it was. The money and the influence she used mostly to procure magical objects and services when her own reserves were depleted. Being an exorcist isn't cheap. She'd also inherited a cursed bloodline, which admittedly wasn't as nice as the money, but it did keep her from becoming yet another bored aristocrat in a country generally disapproving of bored aristocrats. Rasputin's followers had crossed oceans of time to eradicate her family. _No, _she corrected herself. _Rasputin himself had issued the execution orders. That vengeful bastard is still alive. _Killing him would take every ounce of her considerable talent, and she knew that it couldn't be done without Sebastian.

The car stopped and she was shaken from her reverie. John lived in old Petersburg in what could charitably be described as a hovel. Alexandra walked alone up the narrow and creaky wooden stairs, charging Yuri with keeping a lookout from the car. She steeled her nerve and knocked on the door. The impossibly blonde man with ice blue eyes who answered greeted her with lecherousness dripping from his every word.

"Alex," he said, his British accent sharp, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" He opened the door wide enough for her to pass and she caught the hungry way his eyes traveled over her body. _I'll have to remember to thank Sebastian for picking out today's ensemble, _she thought_. He really is very useful; it's a good thing I'll get him back soon._

"I need your help. I'm willing to cut a deal."

"I expected so. I heard that your demon scum lapdog had been boxed. A Containment Prism? Not only obscure, but dreadfully complicated. Only a powerful magician would have attempted one. The amount of energy needed to sustain it would drain either of us in minutes. Rasputin?" He asked it in an inquiring tone, but it was clear that he already knew the details. Intimidation was John's typical comportment towards Alexandra.

"I'll be sure to buy off your informants when this is over. I have no doubt that you know where he is too. Correct?"

"Of course I do. But why, praytell, would I go against the likes of him to help you? There is little likelihood of our breaking the Prism. We'll be weak for days afterwards if we should essay it. If he retaliates during that time, I'm finished. I haven't the security of a superhuman protector, remember?" They were circling each other like competing birds of prey, one determined and the other resistant.

"Security comes in myriad forms. I'll pay you whatever you might require to purchase yours. I'll also throw in the reliquary I retrieved from Patmos; it will help you recover from today's field trip." He stopped circling. The reliquary was a precious object, and he'd made offers to procure it in the past. Just how much was this demon worth? Alexandra took advantage of his contemplating silence and moved swiftly from behind. She closed in, settling her hand on his shoulder. Her lips brushed softly along the outer edge of his ear. "I know what excites you," she whispered. Startled, he brushed her hand off his shoulder and walked brusquely to flop down on the moth-eaten sofa. She smiled a killer's smile but remained irritatingly still.

"Do you?" His voice was low, and he looked at her with weariness. _What a tease_. She'd never pay _that_ price; he was sure of it. But he was equally sure that the shame she'd feel from rendering her body in exchange for his help would make her offer more satisfying than money alone. Indeed, he'd quite like to see her brought so low. "Enlighten me."

"Challenge. Danger. Adventure. I've no doubt this job will be one for the record books."

"What if I decline?"

"You'd be bored, wouldn't you?" Smile still fixed, Alexandra inclined her head slightly, reached up and tugged slowly at the zipper of her jacket, doing her best to imitate Sebastian's languor when he undressed. The effect of this small action was immediate. John's pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, but he did not avert his eyes for long. They'd gone wide in anticipation. She pulled the jacket off in the same excruciatingly slow manner and tossed it into his lap. Spinning on her heel, she proceeded to the bedroom. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?" she called over her shoulder.

"My how have the mighty fallen…." John said greasily when they'd settled themselves in the backseat of her car. Yuri was seething at him from the driver's seat. "You just had sex with me to rescue a demon. You Americans would call that 'slumming it'."

"You're here, are you not? I paid the required price for your services," she said flatly. He flinched.

"And Sebastian's services? What of his price?"

"He has been paid in full."

"Somehow I doubt that." John snorted. "Unless you've slept with him too. I suppose after fucking a demon, fucking me would be an upgrade? Some happily ever after, Alex. I'm curious. How do you suppose your whoring around will avenge Isaac? He was, after all, an unusually moral man." She made no overt gesture, but only continued to look at him. The light that had danced in her eyes as she played the seductress was extinguished. They were now cold dark pools betraying nothing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

She waved away his apology with an impatient hand. It was insincere and unnecessary. "Don't. I understand why you hate me. Just tell me where we're going."

"Where else? Selo. The palace." he answered softly.

"How apropos." Yuri had been listening patiently for his destination and started the car immediately. It moved swiftly, increasing speed once they were outside of the city.

"This doesn't make sense, Alex. You need help eliminating Rasputin. Why not ask another exorcist, or even contract another demon? You're powerful enough to perform another Summoning. Rasputin captured your knight. Fine. Does it make sense to endanger your queen?"

"It's Sebastian I need. Besides, I'm terrible at chess. And even if I weren't, I've nothing to play for. My life was forfeit when Isaac and Nikki were killed." She stopped, considering carefully before voicing her next thought. "We're all but pawns anyway."

* * *

><p>A Containment Prism is a very clever spell, Sebastian decided, and he was quite impressed in spite of his current predicament. Otherworldly entities lose their supernatural powers when bound within it; it is a perfect place to trap a demon (or an angel, for that matter). He was, as a result, understandably livid after he found himself suddenly transported from a seedy back alley in old Petersburg to an entry-less crystal box. So much for taking a walk to clear his anger. Sebastian had considerable knowledge about enchantments; demons were magicians of a sort, but without supernatural assistance, he was forced to attempt to break the Prism by force. That he was unsuccessful was not surprising, but having nothing else to do, he persisted. He'd punched, kicked, jabbed, and even head-butted the Prism's stone-like walls only to be rewarded with debilitating exhaustion and a nascent migraine. He finally gave up, settling himself on the floor and angrily rubbing his hands through his hair. There was no way out, and given that his power was diminished, he could not call to his master for help. <em>What a bloody mess<em>. She'd likely assume he nullified their contract and summon another demon. _She'll probably call that bastard Claude, _he thought savagely. _That classless creep never could keep his hands off my things. _

It was in this agitated state that Alexandra and John found Sebastian. They had walked a good length of the abandoned palace, and Alexandra was prepared to turn back when they descended a flight of stairs and came upon a vast, empty chamber with impossibly high ceilings hung with cobweb-covered chandeliers. There was no light, and the once high windows had been sloppily boarded up. They were in a ballroom. The Prism was glittering away in the very center of the floor, the lone source of light. Its soft bluish glow contrasted with the pillowy darkness of the rest of the chamber. Apparently, Rasputin had set a stage; he knew she'd come, but the sorcerer himself was nowhere near. Alexandra was sure she would have sensed his power. Nevertheless, the duo walked to the prism warily, expecting ambush. Inside, Sebastian had gone from glaring maliciously at his crystal prison to dejectedly leaning his head back against the wall, long legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded primply in his lap. His tie was undone along with the first few buttons of his shirt, and his hair was mussed. Eyes closed, Sebastian had furrowed his brow in concentration, eyebrows knitted together in hopes of a plan materializing. _He's so adorably frustrated,_ Alexandra thought, and she laughed before she could stop herself. John stared incredulously.

"What? He can't see us. He'll never know I'm enjoying this. Anyway, you should see how he gets off on making me uncomfortable."

"Well, in that case…." John extended his middle finger towards the cage, gesturing rudely at the oblivious demon trapped within. Alexandra rolled her eyes and circled the Prism, looking for an easier way in than the one she had planned.

"He's not here," she said to John, who was looking to the gallery for any observers.

"Just because you can't feel him doesn't mean he's not here. He's put this bastard on display. He expected you to come."

"Yes, he knew I'd come, but _his_ presence is unnecessary. Remember that Containment Prisms are designed for superhuman prisoners. Any human who wanders inside would quickly lose breath and strength, making them completely powerless to perform magic. It's useless to waste energy draining a trapped magician. They'd be dead in twenty minutes tops."

"Right. Clever. Incredibly clever. So, you die. Sebastian presumably takes your soul, and by exorcising Sebastian from the earthly realm, he gets rid of the both of you in one fell swoop."

"That's what I would do. But these things aren't invincible. They are only as strong as the conjurer is powerful. I think we can break it if we do it in tandem, me from inside and you from outside. We'll have to Bind ourselves so that the Shattering Charm will be powerful enough."

"That sounds like it could work. But you're not going in there, Alex." John looked serious. He gestured to her bandaged palm. "You've already done some major spellwork today. We'll have less time with you in there."

"Sebastian will kill you," she said simply, preparing to walk through the Prism.

"No. He'll kill me if I let you walk in there already weakened." John said. "And you were wrong. Earlier, you said that I hated you. I don't." He looked determined, so Alexandra inclined her head indicating for him to proceed. "Now I'm going to walk in there. Give me exactly one minute and then start the Binding. Two minutes after that, we break this thing. Have you got it?" She nodded. She'd never heard a plan wherein so many things were left to chance. What if the Binding didn't work through the Prism? She was outside it yes, but he wasn't. What if they couldn't break it? John would die within minutes. It was a terrible plan. But it was their only plan. He nodded back and walked to the Prism. He placed a palm carefully on the glass-like surface. "_Dalaltha_." Nothing happened. They waited. After a moment, John's body was thrown backwards with the force of a small explosion. He landed in a crumpled heap twenty feet away. Alexandra rushed to his side, hoping that there were no permanent injuries. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. This demon of yours had better be worth it. Why can't I get in?"

Alexandra was unsurprised. "I think I'll have to go in. If he's after me, then it makes sense that the Prism can only be opened by superhuman or Romanov blood. He made it so I would have to enter. Crafty bastard." She helped him to his feet and looked pointedly at him. "The plan stays the same. One minute, you Bind us. Two minutes after that, we Shatter the Prism." She waited for his assent and unraveled the bandage from her burnt hand, placing her palm on the side of the Prism. The crystalline surface was cool and surprisingly soothing. "_Dalaltha_." The surface pressure dissipated and she walked forward through a dense fog. The prism sealed closed just as Sebastian's head snapped up. She glanced behind. It felt like walking into a chamber made of the blackest obsidian lit from within by an eerie blue glow.

"Master!" he rushed to her, clearly thrilled to see her, but relief rapidly gave way to worry as he realized that she was wheezing slightly. "Master, you shouldn't be in here…."

"Sebastian, this is an order. Save your concerns for later." She placed her hand on the side of the Prism for support; she was growing so very tired. "You still have your physical strength, yes?" He nodded. "Good. I'm going to try to break this thing, but my hand must remain in contact with it. In a minute, I'll be too weak to stand." She stopped, gasping slightly now, visibly winded. Sebastian rushed to prop her up. He pulled her into his arms, intending to pick her up, but she only shook her head. "You have to hold my hand to the crystal, okay? No matter what happens, until the Prism breaks, keep my hand on this surface. That is an order." He nodded solemnly with his hand dutifully placed across his chest, and then fell in behind her, placing a bracing arm around her waist. She had already placed her palm on the Prism's side, fingers splayed wide. He caught the glove of his free hand in his teeth and discarded it and then covered her hand with his own, black fingernails gleaming in the faint blue light. She was still gasping for air and Sebastian curled his arm around her waist even tighter in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He pressed himself into her, purposefully maximizing the amount of direct contact between them. She turned her head and quirked an eyebrow at this gesture. He chuckled softly, but his warm body felt amazingly good, so she made no move to rebuff him. He breathed her in, relishing their proximity, and then he detected a different scent mingled with her perfume. Both of his hands dropped reflexively, and she drooped forward, bucking slightly at the knees. Before she fell forward, he replaced his arm around her waist, albeit with more force than was necessary.

"John. You gave yourself to _him_?" Sebastian's voice was a low growl in her ear, and it was laced with murderous intent. "How could you?"

"Seb….Sebas….tian. This...this is not….the best time." She was having trouble forming the words around her attempts for air, but placed her hand on his arm at her waist and clasped it reassuringly. She hoped that it conveyed what she could not. John was a means to an end. Sebastian was the end. He nodded.

"Understood. Forgive me, but I am what I am master," he said, smiling into her hair, replacing his hand over hers on the Prism. "Okay. I'm ready." John cast his Binding spell just then. Alexandra suddenly felt like she'd plunged into a warm pool of water. Their power mingled, aggregating. She nodded wearily. It was working. The Containment Prism had turned translucent as their powers joined, and she could just make out John's blurry form on the other side. Sebastian tightened his grip on his master and glared dangerously at the other man. John merely gestured to his watch. She nodded and looked at her own. Twenty seconds. The second hand was travelling over the face of the watch in tiny jerking movements, and she hoped that focusing on it would keep her from fainting. Three. Two. One. John placed his hand on the other side of the Prism directly opposite hers. He nodded meaningfully at her through the crystal. "_Shibbartha_." The surface under her hand grew increasingly hot, and she felt like she had earlier that day when she burned her palm. Her torso was drooping forward, and Sebastian compensated by readjusting his hold, bringing his arm around her chest and leaning into her shoulder. Tiny vein-like fissures appeared from beneath their stacked palms, tracing white lines along the walls like a luminescent spider's web. The fissures grew wider and continued to shoot across the cube, along each side and around the back. Sebastian put more pressure on her palm as it began to slip from place. Alexandra was nearly convulsing now, and only his strength was keeping her upright. Her legs had gone limp. The small hand under his own was wracked with tremors. He felt every shudder run through her body and tried to absorb them himself. She was too weak even to gasp for breath. He knew that she'd be dead very soon.

There was a blackness clouding the periphery of her vision; she was going to faint. It infiltrated more and more of her sight until her all she could make out was a small pinprick of white light where their palms were making contact with the glass. _It's like looking at the North Star twinkling alone in the night sky_, she thought as her vision went completely black. She closed her eyes. Sebastian's solid warmth was holding her close, a heady scent of sandalwood and amber flooded her nose, and the soft tickle of his even softer hair fell upon her cheek. _This might not be a bad way to go. _The thought flitted briefly to mind as the Prism shattered around them, sending a million crystalline projectiles in every direction like some twisted firework. The eerie blue light flickered momentarily and was gone. They were doused in darkness. Sebastian had shielded her from most of the missiles by wrapping himself around her, but now she pushed him away violently as she fell to her knees, sucking in as much air as possible. Her chest was rocked by choking coughs and for the second time that day, Alexandra felt the rushing sting of too little oxygen like fire coursing through her lungs.


	3. Development

NB: Still working on owning Kuroshitsuji, but I regret that I still do not. Again I invite any and all comments. I have a reviewer-shaped hole in my heart. Won't you fill it, please? The next chapter will be deliciously smutty. I have to earn the 'M' rating after all, don't I? Thank you, thank you to all who reviewed and put this on your alerts. I will endeavor to earn your praise.

Also, historians, please be wary: I have no real concept of history and no compunctions about twisting this legitimate academic endeavor for my sick purposes. Content warning includes language.

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><p>"What the Hell were you thinking, letting her walk into that thing?" Sebastian rounded mercilessly on John when finally the trio had settled themselves in the back of the car. Yuri was driving with an urgency usually reserved for trauma ambulances. Sebastian had carried Alexandra out of the palace once she'd finally caught her breath. She was extremely weak, and he used a little of his own regained supernatural power to innervate her. It was a marginal help, but her full recovery would take weeks. She did not allow him to cradle her as they made their way home. Leaning her head weakly against the car's window, Alexandra silently watched Selo grow into Petersburg. John, for his part, also looked worse for wear. His face was covered in tiny red scratch marks from where he'd not turned away from the explosion in time and his trenchcoat was frayed at the elbows from where he'd hit the floor. He too was very weak, but not quite weak enough to ignore Sebastian's words.<p>

"Listen you twisted fuck, this is why we should have let you rot in that Prism. Your carelessness imperiled both of our lives today. For your information, it had been enchanted to permit entry only to a human having Romanov blood. I offered to go in; Rasputin declined my offer." John's tone was clipped and precise, and Sebastian caught the hatred in it even without his unusually good hearing.

"Yes, your capacity for self-sacrifice is touching. Tell me. Were you so _altruistic_ when you had your filthy hands all over her body?" Sebastian had not forgotten how his smell lingered on her long after the deed had been done. It repulsed him. He looked across the seat to his master, but she gave no indication of her feelings about the ongoing conversation. He took her silence as tacit permission to continue.

"Oh, that's what this is about? The demon is getting excessively possessive. Your predictability is dull, but I suppose that's a desirable characteristic in lapdogs."

"I'd rather be a dog than a rat. You're repulsing. Not even fit to lick her boots. "

"Ironic then, that today I licked…."

"Gentlemen, let me assure you that this pissing contest is really very arousing, but I need you both to shut up so that I can think," Alexandra said from her seat. There was no warmth in her voice; her usual playful sarcasm had been swallowed by exhaustion. Her breathing was still shallow but she glared at them with such ferocity that Sebastian found himself wondering where she'd found the energy. Silence filled the car, and the two men commenced eyeing each other venomously from their opposing seats. "Thank you."

"For the record Alex, I'd never compete with a noxious beast like this for your affections." John said slickly, gesturing disgustedly at Sebastian.

"It could hardly be considered a competition."

"Don't tempt me to exorcise you. You don't have to inhabit a body to be sent to Hell, you know."

"I'm contracted. I invite your efforts, in fact…."

Alexandra sighed tiredly. "Sebastian, I order you to stop arguing with John." Sebastian looked scandalized. John laughed raucously. Alexandra resumed staring out of the window. "John, I can't very well order you to shut the hell up, but I can certainly order Sebastian to make you." Sebastian's eyes glinted in that deliciously evil way they did when he was being particularly devilish. John stopped laughing.

"Master, a question, if I may." His voice was exceedingly gentile; it was rather cloying, in fact. Alexandra nodded for him to continue, mostly because she found this abrupt change in manner rather disturbing. "Why could John and I not cast the spell together? You risked yourself needlessly."

_Ever the bodyguard,_ Alexandra thought. "Impossible. It was white magic. A demon can't do white magic." She seemed surprised. "You know that." Was that regret he heard in her voice? Or was it disappointment? It was true; he knew the limits of his own powers. Had she made him forget that he was a demon, even momentarily? He sighed. Thinking about his feelings made him feel so damnably human. John, on the other hand, looked on triumphantly as the demon grew increasingly morose. Sebastian was flustered, but unable to pinpoint the precise reason for his distress. Was he upset because she had to save him, even though he was duty-bound to protect her? Was he envious of her "white magic"? Or was it because he felt particularly impure around this master, this former agent of God? And when did he start giving a damn about being impure anyway? He wondered if she didn't give herself to him because she too felt he was unworthy and impure. Alexandra sensed his unasked questions from across the seat, and reached out to place her hand on his thigh. "Don't worry. I intend to make you very useful, black magic notwithstanding." He smiled at her graciously, but remained silent until Yuri stopped the car in front of John's apartment.

John glanced at Alexandra before he stepped out of the car, and in his fleeting look, Sebastian saw concern. In response, Sebastian took hold of Alexandra's hand. The implication was clear: _She's mine_. John cleared his throat and said, "I'll be by next week to retrieve the reliquary. Eat something Alex. You look like Hell." He looked from Alexandra to Sebastian, "And you, demon scum. Go to Hell." Sebastian rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on his master, cursing at John's retreating form under his breath. He had worked out the finer points of the exorcist's slow and torturous demise when he felt a warm weight on his chest. Alexandra had slipped across the seat and leaned against him, her curls tickling his chin, her free hand toying with his shirt collar. He let go of her other hand and slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her close. He was sure this 'proximity' between them would be temporary, so he intended to indulge in it while he could.

"You're angry with me because I ordered you to stop arguing. I'm sorry; it seemed the most expedient course of action."

"You are ever expedient, master." He said softly.

"Yes, I am. And stop calling me master. You'd have been so proud of me today Sebastian." The playfulness had found its way back into her voice and he relaxed into the seat, knowing she was feeling a bit better. His arm remained firmly around her.

"Somehow, I very much doubt that," he said icily.

"I seduced John into doing my bidding."

"I know. I'm not impressed." He sighed. This was going to be very taxing.

"You should be pleased. I picked up on the mechanics of it by observing you around the house."

"Yes, and I've turned out to be quite a clumsy seducer. I don't know how you managed to succeed." He lied. He was a hell of a seducer, he knew, but he had no intention of continuing this conversation. He found that he didn't want to know anything at all about the things she had done with John.

"You do yourself a disservice. It's been more difficult than you know, keeping my hands off you, not _ordering_ you to put your hands on me." He said nothing, keeping one hand wound around her waist and the other on the armrest, his head resting against the window. The silence was more telling than anything he could say. She'd have to be more forthcoming. He was not going to be satisfied with half-told truths and platitudes. "It meant nothing you know. He was a means to an end. You are the only one with any legitimate claims on me."

"Then why do you shrink when I do this?" He nuzzled her neck, sliding his soft lips along her jawline. Her breath caught sharply in her throat and he felt her recoil ever so slightly. But she remained in his arms and closed her eyes, her long eyelashes almost disappearing behind tight folds of eyelids. Sebastian could _feel_ the pain she was seeing behind them, and much to his surprise, he felt himself soften. "It's not infidelity. You know that, right? You are not being unfaithful to Isaac if you give yourself to me. I exist only to avenge him. For that end, you condemned yourself. I do not ask for your love; it is obviously no longer yours to give, and even if it were, it would be completely useless to me. " He wondered briefly if he was spinning words to trap her or if he was being honest, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was the latter.

"Then what is it you ask for? Complete and absolute ownership? Or is it simply a matter of carnal pleasure? Or are you so hopeless that you're incapable of distinguishing between the two?" He could hear the smile in her words.

He said nothing, but considered her question with all due thoroughness. What _did _he want from her, if not love? He wanted her body, of that he was certain, but his desire was not merely physical. He was possessive too, but again, that was not outside the norm for a demon. Maybe he just wanted to have her in every possible means of possession available to him. He wanted to _matter _to her in such a way that when he took her soul, he would recognize himself in its flavor. _Yes_, he thought happily, _that sounds like me_. He looked down at her again, not quite satisfied with this answer, but willing to work it out later. He spoke confidently, the richness returning to his velvet voice. "Ownership is certainly part of it, as is carnality. Maybe the two are commensurate for me. I don't know. However, there is one thing I do know."

"Hmm?" She tucked her chin under his, her breath warm on his exposed neck.

"I know I do not like anyone else's hands on you."

"This is getting old. I understand that you're very possessive; it's in your nature. But really Sebastian, you can't just think of me as your property. I have….."

He caught her chin by sliding his index finger under it. She stopped talking at once. His eyes were positively luminous, and she stared at them transfixed and breathless. "You're very weak, master…." He pulled her chin close to his face. "….perhaps…." She could discern every gorgeous shade of red reflected in his irises. "….you should just…." She felt his lips barely brush hers as he whispered the words. "….shut up." He closed the the tiny distance between their mouths. Electricity passed through her body making her feel strangely buoyant. It was not unlike the surge of power she'd received from tonight's Binding, but this….this was far more intense and almost too warm for comfort. Her fingertips and toes prickled with heat and even her shallow, labored breathing seemed to ease. He pulled away from her, still smirking mischievously.

A surprised gasp left her lips as he removed his. "What did you just do to me?"

"You are not the only one who knows a trick or two."


	4. Promotion

NB: I checked; I still do not own Kuroshitsuji. I want to thank all of you who took the time to review, favorite, or alert this story-I find writing therapeutic; that someone out there gets even an iota of enjoyment out of this gives me greater joy than you know.

Content warnings for this chapter include sexual violence, BDSM themes, all-around smuttery, and very little concern for theology. Indeed, I felt myself blushing when I wrote the sex scenes (It's my first time writing this kind of thing; sorry if it's choppy). Also, I personally think Sebastian might be a bit out of character here, but I really like this side of him (or like to think he has this side), so I left him as is. I guarantee he will be back to kicking ass and taking names next time around.

So, dear readers, without further ado I present Chapter Four, wherein there is little narrative movement, likely entirely too much backstory, and one very wet demon. I won't call this a lemon (there is certainly one crucial plot point), but it does have a citrusy aroma to it. I hope it provides a welcome reprieve in our grim tale.

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><p>Alexandra fought him all the way up the front steps and to the library. Sebastian insisted on carrying her from the car and with Yuri agreeing, she was forced to acquiesce. His "kiss" had certainly given her the intended boost in energy, but he was beginning to realize that he'd planned the timing poorly. She now had enough energy to push pointlessly against him in an effort to be put down. <em>Really, she could just give an order<em>. She would be exhausted again in a matter of minutes, he knew, and her current childish antics were merely a misguided effort to feign disinterest. He was no fool; something had passed between them today, and whether it was lust, possessiveness, or need, it hung in the air like a miasma, suffocating them both. Something would have to give. And he would make sure that something did. He deposited her on the sofa by the fireside in the library. Her eyes shot daggers in his direction, and she looked ready to go a few more rounds, but he ignored this and removed her boots, placing them neatly beside the sofa.

Sebastian remained kneeling before her, and he took her burnt hand in his own and flipped it palm side up. The fact that she did not resist indicated how very tired she had made herself by fighting him. He looked at it carefully, his typically blood red eyes now a cool shade of brown. Her palm was mangled. It had been sliced open, bled, blistered, calloused, and practically shredded, but Sebastian couldn't make out many of the injuries under the crust of blood and dirt that had dried on it. He tutted softly to himself and prodded it gently with his finger. She hissed in pain. He offered her an apologetic glance and left the library. Alexandra sat motionless, waiting for him. She was too tired to do much else. Sebastian returned some time later with a bucket of ice, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a soft cloth. "This will sting." He circled the ice across her palm and dabbed at it with the cloth. He then poured the alcohol over her hand. She was jarred out of her numbness and nearly jumped. Bloody liquid pooled in her hand and streamed between her fingers into the bucket, and in trying to wipe it away he smoothly slid off her wedding ring. She flinched as though he'd poured the ice over her. He wiped the blood from both it and her fingers and slid it back in place without uttering a word. The back of her free hand found its way to his cheek, and as she stroked it, he leaned into the damaged hand that he held and put his lips against it delicately. She jerked her hand back violently as if in pain, but not before he caught it deftly and pushed the sleeve of her leather jacket above her wrist. An unmistakable rope burn ran scarlet around her birdlike wrist. "I'll kill him." She snatched her hand away and stood up to leave.

"No you won't. Just leave it alone."

"No." Sebastian was tired of asking for permission. He was tired of being refused. He'd not be deterred by an imperious tone in her voice any longer. She'd have to order him not to kill John, and then she'd have to contend with his fury. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back within his reach. His eyes scorched with an anger that she'd rarely seen and Alexandra started trembling again, this time with fear instead of weakness. Hands firmly on her hips, he walked her backwards across the room and pushed her up against the mantelpiece. She remained pinned in place with one hand while the other reached up towards the zipper of her jacket. She was so frightened that she could not order him to stop.

"Sebastian please," she was pleading and there were terrified tears in her eyes. "You don't want to do this." How far would he go to re-establish his ownership? Her voice came in an unsteady whisper. She clutched at his hand but he merely shook her off, resuming his rough undressing. He pushed the jacket off her shoulders and stared at the blotched skin below. Bruises lay across her abdomen and at her neck, and he was sure that if he removed her bra, he'd find bite marks there too. He flipped her around and held her in check by placing both hands at her hips. She was trembling, but he didn't seem to care. Wire-thin scars criss-crossed her back, raised and violently purple against her porcelain skin. He traced one with his finger. It ran across her shoulder blade and over the seal of their covenant. He could feel her twitch painfully under his touch. "I didn't want you to find out. I knew you'd be livid. It wasn't a good experience; I want to forget all about it." He didn't reply. "Sebastian?"

He wrapped his arms gently around her so that he didn't touch the slashes on her back and softly kissed her shoulder where their seal was marked. She flinched. "I am the one who should apologize. I ought to have protected you; but you were made to sacrifice yourself." He allowed her to turn around to face him. There was pain reflected on his face, and she did her best to hide her surprise. She slid into his arms and settled her head on his chest.

"I know it would be easier for you to accept if I were the victim. But, I wasn't _made_ to do anything. I offered myself up as payment for John's information and assistance. It might make me a whore, but I did what I thought necessary." The fact that he'd confessed feelings of guilt, a particularly un-demonic emotion, left her slightly disconcerted. Again she got the strange feeling that the real Sebastian was the human form wrapped around her at the moment and the demon was his guise. She shook her head against his chest, trying to clear her head. _If only he'd act like a demon is supposed to act, I would know what to think. _If he suspected the object of her thoughts, he said nothing.

"Not all ends justify the means." He said it like he meant it, like he was completely oblivious to its irony.

"No, but this one did." She looked up and tucked a shaft of his hair behind his ear and smiled crookedly at him, hoping the conversation was finally over. Having a demon impugn ethics was far too exhausting a prospect after the day's events. He relented, but then he took her hand in his again and closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before he spoke.

"Tell me. Did he tie you up?" His lips brushed her wrists where the burns were etched. She didn't recoil this time.

"Yes." She didn't even think about lying.

"Is he responsible for all of these marks?" His fingers were dancing lightly along her collarbone, down her neck, between her breasts. She held her breath.

"Yes."

"Then I will repay each of these with interest. He will learn not to handle what is mine with such….coarseness." He kissed her collarbone, bent around her and picked her jacket off the floor. It was tossed unceremoniously into the fireplace where it smoked and gave rise to an awful odor. She looked at him in shock. "Pity. I really liked that jacket, but as it smells of him, it will have to be incinerated." He had returned to himself, and although his eyes still burned red, he offered her a conciliatory smile. He shrugged dramatically for effect. "So too will these…." His hands were at the button of her jeans. She grabbed at them reflexively. He laughed. "You wound me. I have every intention of eliciting my name from your lips in a desperate cry of passion, but what kind of bodyguard would I be if I attempted such a thing when you were in poor health?" He shook his head in mock disappointment. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and looked away, embarrassed. He took his advantage and slipped his hands down her hips, sliding her jeans along her legs. His fingers did not leave her flesh as he made his way back up her body. _Okay, so the game is on, _she thought_._ She stepped out of the jeans pooled at her feet and looked at him defiantly. Hands sliding carefully around her back, he unhooked her bra in one swift motion. One more sweep of his hands along the sides of her body found her completely naked. He stared appreciatively for a moment, fingers curled under his chin in pretended contemplation, and then he picked up her lately discarded clothes and tossed them into the fire on top of the burning jacket. "Hmmm. I never thought I'd say this master, but you smell horrible." He crinkled his nose. "You'll need a bath, I'm afraid."

"What?" _Well, at least he's never boring_, she thought amusedly.

He didn't answer, but unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it about her shoulders. Grabbing her uninjured hand, he began pulling her out of the library. "Come with me."

The huge porcelain bathtub was filled with bubbles. She didn't ask how he managed it. Alexandra was expecting candles and soft music or something equally clichéd, but was surprised to find that he had been true to his word. He removed the jacket from her shoulders with an almost clinical detachment and pointed to the suds. "In." She shrugged and stepped into the tub carefully. The water was warm and inviting, and in no time she found herself relaxing in spite of the strikingly good-looking presence eyeing her from the doorway. "I'll be back." He left. She leaned back into the water, closing her eyes and sinking below the surface. The tub was large enough for her to stretch out completely. _I should just stay here. I should stay here, breathe in this bathwater, and stay asleep forever. I'm not sure why I keep going anyway. Everything that ever meant anything is lost. _She seriously considered opening her mouth. It would be too easy. Five minutes. It could be over in five minutes. A familiar tingling in her fingertips and toes caught her attention then, drawing her out of her despair, and she felt the tension begin to drain away from her limbs. _Crafty bastard. _She surfaced, startled to find Sebastian leaning over the tub, smiling too sweetly. It was rather unnerving.

"The water…it's enchanted."

He looked put out. "You really are very talented, master. I disguised it thoroughly." She was about to reply, but her words were choked by violent chills and wracking coughs. The pleasant warmth of the water had been transformed into an ice bath and she wrapped her arms around herself, desperately trying to generate some heat. The cold stung her skin and she found herself wheezing painfully for breath yet again. Sebastian didn't hesitate. He slipped into the tub fully clothed and threw his long limbs around her. With one hand he caught her chin and pressed his lips to hers, blowing his warm breath into her shivering mouth. She accepted this kiss and curled her knees into her chest, trying to keep as much of herself in contact with his warm body as possible. The tremors abated after some time and she leaned on her side against his chest, knees still pulled up.

"Thank you."

"It seemed the most efficient course of action." She smiled weakly at his use of her own words. "You _are_ very weak aren't you? Even that bastard looked concerned." Sebastian cursed himself for not catching on sooner. He was absentmindedly running his hand up and down her shoulder, the soaked sleeve of his shirt dripping warm water down her arm and back. _This feels nice_, she thought.

"I am," she answered honestly, "that Prism was designed very well. But you needn't concern yourself too much. This kind of weakness is typical of major spellwork, but when it passes, I'll be stronger than ever. I'll be grateful for this in a week or so. It's a magical investment of sorts."

"A week? I think I can reduce the recovery time by half." He moved again to take her lips with his, but she placed a stalling hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to do that. I will be fine soon enough."

"Master, doubtless you are aware that there is not much that I _have_ to do," he said and he slid his arm around her shoulder to keep her in place as he leaned in again. She let out a small scream as his wristwatch scraped across her scars. In the drama of the last half hour, he'd forgotten about them. He loosened his grip, leaned his head against the back of the tub and closed his eyes. She knew the orbs beneath his long lashes were burning with a frightening intensity. She settled her head against his chest again.

"Why?"

"I told you. He needed to feel some kind of domination over me. It was his price."

"No. Why?" He sighed, irritated. She was avoiding the real issue. "Are there no other exorcists you could have called? I refuse to believe that you didn't know what he'd ask from you."

"I didn't know, although I'm not surprised. Given that I'd been so self-righteous in the past, I expected him to make me a hypocrite. I suspect the prospect of having me whore myself out was rather appealing to him. I manipulated that appeal, true, however, I had no idea of his violent sexual predilections. But trust me, Sebastian, I deserve no less."

Realization hit him like a flash of lightning. A million questions tumbled through his mind, and he worked furiously to put them in some semblance of order. "You're not after revenge, are you?"

She smiled sadly, "I've been thinking about this quite a lot since I learned of Rasputin's existence. He ordered our deaths, but he's not the one to blame. Not really. I'm responsible for Isaac and Nikki. I endangered Isaac's life when I married him knowing that I would always be a target, and Nikki's blood carried in it his death sentence. Romanov blood has a short shelf life; I've been painfully aware of that fact since I was a little girl." She sighed and pressed herself into him, seeking some kind of comfort he supposed. He tightened his arms around her again. "I had been so arrogant, so sure of my own skills. I thought my magic would protect them, but I didn't realize that I was fighting a magician more powerful than I ever imagined. It was _my_ mistake, but _they_ paid the price for it. It should have been me. Their only crime was that I loved them and that I made no secret of it."

"I often wondered why you didn't allow yourself be sacrificed instead of summoning a demon. You would have gone to Heaven with them."

"Perhaps, but I know nothing of Heaven, and I care nothing for God. He left me to watch the ones I loved be tortured and killed, refusing to help even after I had served Him for so many years. I hated Him. I thought it was because of this righteous anger that I summoned you. I know better now. I did what I did because, ultimately, I don't deserve to be with them. How could I hold them again with such stained hands? How could they forgive me after I hurt them so deeply?" She closed her eyes and her forehead wrinkled with frightening and painful memories. He remained silent, bringing his chin to rest on her head. "You're more like Isaac than you know, Sebastian, right down to your terrible sense of humor. At first I thought it was some sick demon's joke—a patina of decency painted over a devil's snarl. But you are not like any of the others. Neither was he."

"That's why you declined all of my invitations? Because I was…_decent_." He spat the last word out of his mouth as if trying to expel something particularly bitter-tasting.

"Imagine. I summon a demon because I wanted to be damned, and he turns out to be a bit of a blessing. You've done nothing but mangle my best-laid plans."

"Believe me master, I am evil. That I choose not to be thus always is more a matter of aesthetics than ethics."

"Ah, but you _choose_, and therein lies the difference. And stop calling me master."

"I believed that you thought a demon too unworthy to touch you."

"It's the other way around, I'm afraid. I am the unworthy one. And when did you begin to care about being unworthy anyway?"

"Well then, allow me to sully myself so that you no longer feel so inadequate." He kissed her, not softly as he did before, but urgently, hotly, and she failed to realize that he didn't answer her question. She forgot she'd asked him anything when he began to tug at her bottom lip with his teeth. His hand wound itself in her wet hair, and he pulled it back, sliding his mouth along her neck. His other hand's thumb was gently stroking her nipple and it began moving downwards tentatively. She felt him harden against her side as he continued sucking along her collarbone. She gasped, eyes wide with surprise.

"Sebastian!"

He laughed heartily and loosened his grip. It was a welcome sound she decided. "I promised I wouldn't have you calling my name in a fit of passion. I never made any such promises about anything, or _everything_, else."

"You're incorrigible," she said as she settled her back against his chest. His fingertips came to rest on either side of her hips almost instinctively, and he inhaled her scent as he barely brushed his lips back and forth along her shoulder blade. She did not leave, he noted with satisfaction. _Interesting. _

"You have no idea."

* * *

><p>Alexandra hated being a convalescent. She was angst-ridden, impatient, and turned into an impetuous child when housebound. Sebastian took all of this in stride and allowed her to brood in the library over dusty spellbooks and magical histories, interrupting her when he felt that boredom threatened to overwhelm her. He'd been surprisingly adept at contriving distractions, most of which were designed to keep her skills sharp while she wasn't using them against evil magicians. Rasputin's elimination would demand a great deal of cunning, she told him, and so she pored over ancient texts in hopes of finding something suitable. He'd not made any physical advances on her since that first night, but often pulled her into gentle, warming kisses whenever she was overcome with weakness and chills. Alexandra suspected that there were less intimate ways of transferring energy, but she said nothing. She was grateful more than anything else. Under his careful watch, she was recovering faster than expected. Later she would recall that even at the time, this domestic idyll seemed too good to be true.<p>

* * *

><p>Yuri was rudely roused by a sharp knock on the front door of his gatehouse residence late one night. An urgent package had arrived, and the deliverer instructed Alexandra to open it immediately. There was no return address, but Yuri did not need Alexandra's or Sebastian's magical prowess to know that the package was from one of Rasputin's devotees. He therefore drove to the main house with a heaviness settling in his chest. Unsurprisingly, he found her wide awake with her face planted in an antique volume, unintelligible writing gilded on its cover. Sebastian sat across the library, stretched out on the sofa, quietly leafing through his own dusty book. Yuri sighed guiltily, knowing that his delivery would shatter the brief period of happiness that had settled on the house after their return from Selo.<p>

"This just arrived, Sasha. It's urgent," he said, clearing his throat to announce his arrival and placing the box on her desk. He could not bring himself to remain so that he could watch the easy smile on Alexandra's face fade away into grim determination.

"Thanks." Yuri left with a short nod at the both of them. Only Sebastian noticed the sadness in his fleeting glance. Alexandra was too busy rummaging through her desk drawer. Finally, she found a box cutter and sliced open the lid. Sebastian's head snapped up from the sofa when he heard the delicate shattering of glass.

"The reliquary. The one I gave to John."

"Did he send it back?" he asked. He clapped his book shut. She shook her head mutely and pointed to the pieces on the floor. They were covered in sticky red stains. He could smell the copper from across the room. _Blood_. He walked towards her to examine it.

"He's dead." Sebastian didn't know how to respond. Alexandra looked crushed, but he had a hard time gathering any emotion that wasn't completely inappropriate by human standards. In fact, he found himself growing hot with anger. She was _mourning_ the bastard who'd violated her so shamelessly?

"A means to an end, master? Isn't that what you said?" He looked at her. Blood-shot eyes rimmed with wet lashes met his, and he felt an urge to strike her. "So you lied." He turned on his heel, preparing to walk away before he reacted violently. John deserved no sympathy in Sebastian's opinion, and Alexandra's sentimentality was shredding his patience.

She reached out and took his arm. Reluctantly, he turned to face her. "No. That's not it at all. I just don't think he deserved to die for helping me." She fell silent, trying to work through her feelings. "I am so very tired. Everything I touch turns to ash. I don't know how much more blood I can spill without crumbling under the weight of it." Her voice shook and her gaze faltered as she attempted to level it on him. "Don't you understand? I don't want to feel _anything_ anymore!" She nearly screamed the last part, but recovered quickly, her voice steady when she spoke again. "Some days I think about ordering you to kill me Sebastian, because I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to finish this." He could hear her teardrops as they fell thickly to the floor. He breathed out. _Despair. _This, he understood. This, he could fix, even temporarily.

"Orders are not absolute. You should know that." Sebastian spoke the words softly, and she heard the implied _"I would never comply_" lurking behind them. He moved purposefully to her and without warning he kissed her, fingers running feverishly all over her body. He pushed her against the wall, lips nipping at her ear, hands lifting her skirt slowly by gathering more and more of its fabric. He mentally thanked her for wearing something so uncharacteristically girlish and easy to remove. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt fingertips on the bare skin of her thighs.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm helping you." He kissed her eyes, her long lashes tickling his lips. Her tears were salty and sweet at the same time, and Sebastian relished the flavor. "Don't you want to forget everything, even if it is just for one night?" He took both of her arms by the wrists and pinned them above her head, but when he looked at her, she saw the concern mingled with the lust in his eyes. "Let _me_ save _you_ this time." He resumed trailing hot, wet kisses down her neck, licking and sucking with increasing intensity. When he pressed himself against her, extremely aroused, she tensed.

"Wait…."

He stopped, but did not step back or release her. "No master...not tonight," he said intently, "If you really want me to stop, you'll give the order." He waited for it, and when it didn't come he began grinding against her slowly. Her earlobe was between his teeth when she spoke again.

"You'll save me...by tying me up?" He was startled by the question, but saw that she was smiling wickedly and looking up at her pinned hands.

He immediately released them. "No. You'll find that I am vastly more...skilled...than John. I don't have to restrain you to possess you utterly." She placed her arms around him and he resumed sucking at her neck. Fingernails raked lightly up her thighs, sending shivers through her body. Each tiny shudder widened his devilish grin. Her dress had fallen around her again, but he swept it over her head swiftly. Having removed it, he bent his head, and gently bit her nipple through her bra. She arched into his arms and he slipped his hands behind her to unfasten it. After it fell to the floor, he hooked his thumbs into her panties on either side of her hips. The undergarment was removed with exquisite slowness, soft kisses starting at the meeting of her hip and thigh and moving down her leg with practiced smoothness. He lifted her legs one by one to disentangle the garment from her feet.

"I think we'll leave these on," he said as he gestured to her impractically high heels. "The added height will make this….easier." She looked down at him, laughing and ruffling his hair. It felt like threads of silk slipping between her fingers. She felt herself unclench. Hadn't she wanted him all along? Wasn't her fear of distraction a scapegoat for her fear of attachment? He moved his fingers along the inside of her leg as he stood back up, working from calf to thigh with a slow motion that did nothing to quell her anticipation. He was going to torture her for making him wait, she knew. _I guess I deserve that. _He placed an index finger between her legs and stroked her. She moaned. His other hand he used to lift one of her legs and wrap it around his waist. He continued his ministrations, watching small spasms of pleasure flit across her face. Heat coiled low in her abdomen, increasing steadily as he continued. Her leg wrapped even tighter around him, pulling him into her, but he did not move his hand. She had begun to undress him, working a finger through his tie knot, but she'd not done much more than that before the slow, circular movements of his finger clouded her mind. Her arms now lay limply around his shoulders. Blood appeared on her lower lip where her teeth had sunk into it in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in her body. Her head was thrown back and her eyes closed in pleasure, and he realized that she looked exactly like she did when he'd fantasized about this moment. But he was just getting started. Gentle tremors through her leg indicated to him that she'd be unable to stand for much longer, so he placed the leg he'd wrapped around his waist back on the floor and both hands at her hips to hold her steady. She moaned in disappointment when he removed his hand and thrust her hips into him, trying in vain to replace the pressure between them. He chuckled as he kissed from neck to nipple, biting it again. This time she screamed and arched her back suddenly. Each small sensation had somehow become a seismic event; his lips, teeth, and tongue sending her reeling over the edge of something she could not name. _How does he do that? _He kept licking down her torso, painfully slow in his movements, and when his tongue replaced his finger between her legs she nearly fell over.

"Oh my God!"

"Not quite." He continued swirling his tongue in steady, light movements. He could feel the beads of sweat on her skin beneath his hands at her hips. She was making unintelligible noises she'd never deign to make under other circumstances, and he rather liked the complete loss of control he was able to effect in such a short time. Her legs were completely unsteady now, and she'd be a writhing mess on the floor if his superhuman strength weren't keeping her upright. Every muscle in her body tensed in preparation for release. To him she felt like a rubber band stretched to its limit. Her breathing was coming in shallow gasps and her fingernails were digging into his shoulders. Her mind had gone completely, blissfully blank and all she knew was that she would be sent crashing into orgasm at any second. But then suddenly, he stopped. He kept his hands on her hips, stood back up and nuzzled her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of desire mixed with disappointment.

"You…bastard." The words came between gasps. Sebastian was enjoying the way her muscles remained tense under his fingertips. He could feel her erratic heartbeat. If he so much as brushed his lips against hers right now, she'd be calling his name in a manner that would make angels blush. _Maybe some other night_, he thought. _Tonight, I'll make her wait. It's only fair._

"Now, now. Play nicely or I won't play with you anymore." He lifted her up easily and carried her upstairs to the bedroom where he placed her on the bed. She was still breathing heavily when he pressed himself on top of her. Long legs wrapped themselves around his torso impatiently, heels digging painfully into his back. She was practically begging for him take her. He was careful not to increase the friction between them needlessly, instead sliding his lips up and down along the outer edge of her ear. She was biting the thumb he'd placed against her lips. He loved the sharp pain of her teeth pressing into his flesh and he thought about her teeth leaving their mark on other parts of his body as he waited, listening for her breathing to ease and feeling her pulse slow with his lips against the skin of her neck. After she calmed down, he kissed her sweetly at first, increasing pressure patiently as she grew further and further away from climaxing. Hadn't he said he was going to savor her? _I ought to bring her to the brink over and over again. Then we'll see who commands whom. _It was a brief thought, just a whim really, banished completely when he took in the flushed and desperate form struggling beneath him. He could practically taste the desire coming off her, and he was not about to trade ambrosia for table wine.

"Sebastian."

"Hmm?"

"Undress."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

He laughed, drinking in the desperation with which she wanted him. He slid his tie from his shirt and dropped it beside her on the bed. She wrapped it between her hands and caught it in her teeth, looking at him with naked, unashamed want. _Keep it up master, and I will use it to tie you to this bed. _His jacket he pulled off with maddening slowness. It was tossed on the floor. He had begun teasingly undoing the buttons of his shirt when she moved forward herself, abandoning his tie for his shirt, batting his hands away impatiently and deftly popping the buttons open, discarding the shirt on the floor along with his jacket. She'd had about enough of his teasing.

"When I give an order, I expect you fulfill it posthaste. Am I understood?" She was the one who caught his chin in her hand this time, the other hand running over the chiseled planes of his chest, fingernails scraping lightly. He could do nothing but smirk.

"For all your earlier hesitation, you seem quite game now, master."

"Stop calling me master. And stop talking." She pulled him towards her by crooking her fingers through his belt loops and kissed him _hard_. He removed his pants and boxers with more urgency than his shirt, and she gave him room to pull them both off his feet. He crawled up her like a cat, eyes glinting fiercely and a dangerous quirk playing across his lips. He bent one of her legs, kissing along her inner thigh as he moved up her body, and when he was level with her, he put a surprisingly gentle hand to her cheek.

"Are you certain? I'm not human. I will hurt you, although I will endeavor to be gentle." He'd picked the worst time to have a bout of decency. Her eyes grew wide in surprise at the tenderness in this gesture, but she never thought about stopping him.

"Are you kidding?" His eyes did not leave hers, long fingers working into the muscles of her thigh but he remained otherwise still. Her breath caught again. _Is he asking for permission? "_Yes. I want you to_." And don't make me order you_. They kissed deeply as he slid into her. She cried out into his mouth and he stopped, but her arms only wrapped around his neck more forcefully, indicating that she wanted him to continue. He remained perfectly still until her body adjusted, and when her breathing slowed again, he began moving with long, slow strokes. Eventually she relaxed under him, allowing the pain to give way to pleasure. Having surrendered to the sensation, she found that he felt unlike anything she'd experienced before, like a steady electric current passing through every cell in her body. _Well, he is a demon. What did you expect?_ If she thought anything at all after that, it was only that she should have taken him up on his offer much sooner. He increased speed when he felt her pulse quicken under his fingertips. Her muscles tensed again, and with a demon's keenness he could feel the irreversible tension that was building in her body. She shuddered violently, and he growled as he felt her tighten around him. A particularly long thrust found her arching suddenly into him, her hands digging into his back with surprising ferocity. He wrapped his arms around her tightly to steady her as she came spectacularly apart, in precisely the manner he imagined.

"Oh Sebastian!"

He smiled. _Mine, _he thought wickedly as he continued his movements, each thrust bringing him closer to his own release. He licked his lips as he came, tasting the sweetness of their sin. _All mine. _He pulled away from her slowly, keeping his lips on hers as long as possible. He'd exhausted her. Her whole body had gone limp and she fitted herself into his side, throwing an arm over his chest possessively, her fingers clutching him in a manner that would certainly be painful for a human. He took her hand and threaded his own fingers through hers, pressing both of them against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat in her palm. Her lips were at his ear, breath tickling invitingly. They remained like that for quite some time, but she began shivering slightly against him and he realized that she was probably cold. As he threw the blankets over her, he saw that she was still wearing her shoes. He'd caused her to forget about them. Sliding out from under her arm, he got up, smiling victoriously. _I told you, master. Everyone yields eventually._

"Please stay." She was sitting up and alert now, although she still looked quite spent. Disappointment clouded the post-orgasmic flush of her face. She could not explain why, but she knew that she wanted him close at that moment...his silken skin, his honeyed laugh. She realized then that in the interim between their adventure with the Containment Prism and the events of this evening, he'd become something more than a means to exact her revenge. He'd become a need in ways that she'd never have expected. Sebastian simply nodded at her, gently taking her ankle, and slipping off her shoe. _As if I'd leave now with you clinging to me so desperately. It's almost as satisfying as devouring a soul, drinking in all of this. _After removing the other shoe, he slipped into bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him. He was very warm. "Thank you." She curled herself against his body again, relieved. She was getting very tired. "I know you don't sleep, but…"

He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'll stay here. I'm with you always."


	5. Endgame

NB: You know the drill. I don't own Kuroshitsuji. To those of you who have reviewed and/or set alerts and faves: You make me so very happy! Chapter Four didn't get very good responses, so I hope I made up for it with this chapter (although this is my least favorite chapter so far).

Content warnings include violence, torture, and some sadistic main characters. If you've come along this far, you know that I rarely maintain historical accuracy, but with this chapter I've mangled theology too.

So, for your reading pleasure I give you Chapter Five, wherein we learn some demonology basics, why Bassey is such a stand-up guy, about Alexandra's favorite pair of boots, and alternative uses for holy water.

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><p>Alexandra hated funerals, but whereas most people hate funerals for the same reason they hate goodbyes, she hated them because funeral services were cheap platitudes designed to lull survivors into thinking that there was some grand divine plan. She bristled when eulogies became sweeping paeans to everyday people. They were lies—most people never approached the saintliness attributed to them in their eulogies. But, John's funeral was tolerable. He'd never be mistaken for a good man, so the priest could do little else but deliver a few lines about God's saving grace. She watched with increasing disinterest, concentrating intently on not rolling her eyes irritatedly. Petersburg had a number of churchyards, but most were utilitarian structures too narrow and overpopulated to give the illusion of a peaceful eternal rest. John was interred at a smaller, more private churchyard outside of the city. Alexandra paid for the plot despite Sebastian's unvoiced objections. It was the only decent thing to do; he was dead because he helped her. The people gathered around his grave began mulling about. She realized that the service was over. Tossing a handful of dirt on John's casket, she walked back to the car where Sebastian and Yuri were waiting patiently for her. Sebastian walked forward when he saw her coming (he did not deign to attend the service) and offered his arm in a gentlemanly, if anachronistic fashion. She smiled at his formality and hooked her own arm into his. They were walking silently towards the car when Alexandra felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around, still arm-in-arm with Sebastian.<p>

"You must be Alex Nikolayevich. John talked about you so much." The woman was in her mid-thirties, slim, impossibly blonde with ice crystals for eyes just like John. Alexandra shook the proffered hand. _A relative then_. "I'm Alice, his sister."

Alexandra didn't know John had any family. John would have been the type to alienate himself from any relation, but to her surprise, the woman was devastated. "I'm truly sorry for your loss. John was…."

"Please don't say he was a good man." The words tumbled from Alice's lips before she could stop them.

"He was a very skilled colleague. He helped me when I was in great need."

"He always said you had an allergy to bullshit." Alexandra smiled knowingly at her, wanting to know what this woman might want. "Look, he didn't do right by nobody, my brother, but I wanted you to know that you were special to him. I don't know how else to say it, but he _believed _in you. You were married, weren't you? John said you weren't the same after Isaac died." Alice tossed a fleeting glance in Sebastian's direction and looked again to Alexandra. Was that accusation in her eyes? Alexandra's smile became vacant. She searched for words to say, and finding none, she remained silent. How dare this stranger speak of Isaac—her Isaac—without knowing anything about him? Sebastian tensed almost imperceptibly beside her. Alice looked at the both of them expectantly, but realized that the conversation was over and stammered over her goodbyes. Sebastian spun her around again and they continued walking to the car.

"What do you think she wanted master?"

"Sympathy. From someone who understands grief."

"Humans are so fascinating."

"I'll be back shortly, Sebastian. There's something I should do." He nodded politely and removed his arm from hers, watching her walk beyond the car and up a small grass-less hill toward a lone mausoleum. The neo-Gothic architecture gave the illusion of age, but the structure was only two years old. She entered through an archway labeled "Nikolayevich." There were two stone grave markers raised in the middle of the stone floor. Her footsteps echoed, hollow and lumbering. Light filtered through a small stained-glass window at the fore, making the interior look like a particularly small dark church. _I could stay here forever_, she thought. She placed her hand on the smaller of the two grave markers and slid it back and forth over the smooth marble as if hoping to soothe the child that lay beneath. Nikki's scent lingered in the air, and she was sure it had been conjured up by the power of her own longing. It was soft and sweet, like the talc she used to powder him when he was a baby. Placing her cheek against the stone, she felt long-restrained tears stream down her face. They pooled and shone on the marble like small puddles of liquid silver. _What use is crying? I'm the reason you're lying here and not warm in your bed_. She walked slowly from Nikki to Isaac, hands unsteady and breath at bay. Isaac's name was carved into the marble, and she traced the grooves of the letters with a trembling finger. "I think this is goodbye, my love. I've strayed too far find my way home. But I'll always miss you, wherever I go." After pressing her lips to the cold stone, she removed her wedding band and placed it over his name. In the soft light, it was surrounded with a glowing silvery halo. Sebastian had been watching from just outside the entrance. She'd been gone an hour, and Yuri charged him with retrieving her, but he could not bring himself to interrupt her mourning. He shifted intentionally so that she would not be taken by surprise. She might want to pull herself together. When she finally faced him, it was with dry but blood-shot eyes.

"Yuri?"

"Yes."

"Well, let's go then." This time she offered her arm but he took her by her hand, gently curling his fingers between her own.

"Why did you leave it behind?"

"Because no part of him deserves to go where we're going."

* * *

><p>There are things about demons that their masters do not know. For instance, even masters steeped in the magical arts like Alexandra would not know a demon's real name. Sebastian had no intention of revealing his real name, as appellation is a powerful phenomenon. To know a demon's name is to have tremendous sway over the creature bearing it. Giving that kind of power to an exorcist is unforgivably foolish. There are other things as well, like the fact that a demon's power increases when he or she is contracted, and that this power is directly proportional to the strength of the bond between master and servant. The fact that Sebastian was currently engaged in a physical relationship with his (delicious) master meant that he was more powerful than most contracted demons. And again, he'd consider it the height of carelessness to reveal this information. Demons also live by a hierarchy; some are stronger than others, even when there are no contracts to be had. Sebastian could best most demons on his worst day, but the combination of resources from which he was currently drawing power meant that he was quite a creature to contend with, whether or not Alexandra gave a direct order. He was also very restless, and their search for information through Alexandra's "professional" channels was unfruitful. It was not surprising, therefore, that Sebastian called Alexandra one morning to inform her that he had captured one of Rasputin's associates on his own and was <em>en route<em> to the manor so that they might interrogate him together. Alexandra took her time getting dressed, knowing that the painful grunts issuing from the library were a result of Sebastian's unique method of persuasion. She walked downstairs to find a man bound to the high-backed chair in front of her desk. He had black hair, pale skin, and glowing red eyes. Like Sebastian, he was surrealistically attractive and dressed impeccably in various shades of black and grey. "Another demon. How predictable," she said lazily as she made her way to the prisoner. There was a thin slash across his cheek and blood dripped along the side of his face. She quirked a brow at her own demon who was watching silently from a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, eyes burning and pupils snake-like slits narrowed with fury. "That wasn't very welcoming of you, was it?"

"I did what the situation required." He said it without emotion.

"Shame you had to mar his face though. He's quite handsome, isn't he?" The words were playful, but her typically lilting and mischievous tone had gone chilly. It was a voice carrying no hint of mirth. She looked at the being trapped in the chair. He had been bound to it by the thinnest of luminescent white threads which sparkled starkly against his dark clothes. It looked like it would break without much exertion at all, but the demon was sitting perfectly still, as if afraid to struggle against it. She crooked a finger around the thread to test its strength. It drew blood as she pulled. She jerked her finger back sharply and looked at Sebastian. He grinned his devil's grin.

"It's thread that I _acquired_ from a rather powerful spider demon a long time ago. It will cut through almost anything. If he moves, he'll be in pieces."

"Sebastian, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I've told you before master. You are not the only one who knows a trick or two." He dusted imaginary lint from front of his crisp suit jacket uninterestedly, as though having bound a demon with a spider's thread was an unbearably dull event.

"Cut him loose." She sat on the edge of her desk in front of the restrained man, eying him malevolently.

"Master?"

"Cut him loose. I'm assuming that if you were able to capture and restrain him, then you'll be able to handle him if he should prove….uncooperative. Am I right?" _I think I've had a bad influence on her, _he thought. But he was _very_ interested in what she'd planned.

"That is correct," Sebastian said smoothly as he dextrously unwound the thread from around the other demon. The prisoner waited until the last bit was a safe distance from his body and made a move to get up. Alexandra swiftly pinned him back into the chair with the sharp stiletto heel of her boot. The man howled in pain and Sebastian could hear the soft sizzling of burning flesh where her heel made contact with his body. Her shoe had managed to burn through the demon's shirt and was now digging painfully into his shoulder. Sebastian's mouth dropped open. He distinctly remembered being pinned by Alexandra in a similar fashion without the resulting pain. _It was quite the opposite of painful, in fact. _These thoughts were cut short when next she spoke.

"Do you like these shoes?" Alexandra nodded at her foot. Sebastian thought she sounded rather like a bored aristocrat. _How apropos_. "They're my favorite pair. I bought them in Milan one summer, and they've been discontinued since. Impossible to replace. I'd hate for anything to happen to them. So, you can understand why I performed a blessing on them before I put them on this morning, yes?" It took a great deal of effort for Sebastian to refrain from laughing hysterically, but even he couldn't resist a gleeful smirk. This was the most absurd and the most sadistic thing he'd ever seen her do.

"Enjoy this while you can. The Morningstar has a special welcome planned for you in Hell. We've been anticipating your very imminent arrival. We do love exorcists." The demon said glibly around difficult breaths.

"I'm flattered, but as you can see I'm contracted already, so I must regretfully decline."

"Yes, I figured _this_ one would seek to disrupt Lucifer's plans, but you shouldn't sleep too soundly. Contracts can be broken," he turned to Sebastian with a deadly glint, "Isn't that right, Ab—" Sebastian moved too fast for Alexandra to see. Briefly, all she registered was a pair of scarlet eyes in a cloud of black. What she saw next was the prisoner's head hanging limply and blood running from his slightly open mouth down his chin. She looked at Sebastian as though she'd never seen him properly before. He was slightly out of breath, and darkness still clung to his form, making him appear blurry to her human eyes. _Interesting, _she thought.

"Forgive me master. He was going to name me. Most demons have more professional courtesy, but this _thing_ is utterly lacking. Had he succeeded, I could have been recalled to Hell and our contract terminated." He had resumed his anthropomorphic form, but the growl in his throat suggested that it was a form being maintained with a great deal of effort.

"Well, in that case, thank you." Sebastian nodded dutifully and took his place behind the prisoner's chair. Alexandra addressed the creature trapped under her boot. "You're going to tell me what I want to know, aren't you?" She dug her heel deep into his shoulder, pinning him further back into the chair. The other boot's heel she lifted and placed high upon the demon's thigh. He screamed and struggled as he burned again, small tendrils of demonic darkness rolling off him. His eyes were black slits in a ring of fire. But he shook his head to indicate that he would not surrender any information. She rolled her eyes and pulled a tiny glass vial out of her jacket pocket, sighing heavily for effect. The liquid within was clear and did not betray any visible magical properties. It looked rather harmless in the morning light. "Do you know what this is? It's holy water. Curious, isn't it? For most of us, holy water does absolutely nothing. I could drink this whole vial and it won't save me. But to you demons, it's like liquid fire." She smiled evilly and Sebastian was sure he saw a hint of red blaze briefly in her eyes. When she addressed him, however, it was with a considerably softer tone. "Sebastian you'd better move aside." He moved behind her, silently looking on with amusement etched in his face. _Cruel and beautiful_, he thought, _not unlike a very small master of many years ago_. Without warning, she unstopped the bottle splashed the prisoner. Again howling screams rose from the squirming form. He clutched Alexandra's leg, intending to push her off, but the holy water had weakened him considerably. She didn't even need Sebastian's help to overpower him and push him back into the chair. "Tell me why Rasputin still lives, or I'll paint you with this…..in slow, excruciating strokes."

The demon looked at her as if he'd like to place his hands around her throat and squeeze until her breath stilled, but she only dug her heels more deeply into his flesh. She tutted and shook her head, pulling the stopper out of the bottle again and pointing it in his direction. He had no choice but to relent. "He's still alive because I transplant his soul from body to body as each withers. It's part of our contract." She motioned for him to continue, waving the vial dangerously close to his face. "I am to do so until your entire bloodline is eradicated."

"As you so kindly reminded me earlier, contracts can be broken. Where is he hiding?"

"Like I'd tell you. He'll contract another demon to destroy me. His soul is very valuable to our kind."

"Trust me. He won't have the pleasure. Where?" He remained silent. Alexandra lifted a small book off her desk. It was covered in faded brown leather, and quite obviously very old. She flipped it open, ostensibly searching for something.

"So what, you're going to exorcise me? What of it? I'll be welcomed back to Hell with open arms."

"Yes, I suppose that's true. But I have no intention of sending you back to Hell. I'm going to read you your Last Rites before Sebastian destroys you." The words slipped from her tongue with relish, and as Sebastian tugged impatiently at his leather gloves, he realized that he'd not had so much _fun_ in years. She continued to flip through the book, mock concentration dancing across her features. "Let's see, I've already sprinkled you with holy water….and now I just have to…" The man shifted uncomfortably under her feet.

"That will never work," he said loudly to compensate for his fear.

"Maybe. But I'm curious enough to give it a go. Have you any idea what Heaven does to those who dare trespass?"

Until then, the demon had expressed a great deal of pain, an admirable amount of hatred, but not quite enough fear for Sebastian's tastes. But now his eyes were wide with terror, and his hands were trembling uncontrollably. He spoke his next words with venom dripping from each syllable, but Alexandra didn't care. She'd won. "Selo. He watched how you _used_ that other magician to free your pet." Maniacal laughter issued from his throat. "Your cruelty is impressive. You're more alike than you'd think, the two of you." The last part he said with sick satisfaction.

"Forgive me if I don't consider that a compliment." She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. It was the only crack in her defenses that Sebastian detected. Alexandra rubbed her forehead wearily and removed her heels from the demon's shoulder and thigh. She remained sitting in front of the man, however, looking down on him with contempt. "You're a disgrace to your kind. Sebastian, this is an order. Finish him." Sebastian moved like a patch of night from her side. There was a loud squelching as the demon's heart was ripped from his chest. Sebastian tossed it into the demon's lap disgustedly, but Alexandra did not see this. She'd kept her eyes tightly closed and only felt the tiny splashes of blood on her cheek which indicated that he successfully executed her command. She shuddered. He removed his bloody gloves and brought his hand up to wipe the blood from her face, but he was slapped away rather forcefully. She was always less responsive to his touch when he had been particularly violent, even if he acted on her orders. Lately many of their days had been characterized by his being violent.

"Master, do _you_ know what Heaven does to those who dare trespass?" He asked it quietly, and she heard the unmistakable sound of heartache in his voice; she'd recognize it anywhere. She looked into his cool brown eyes, and for once she did not find the knowing smirk on his lips or the irony in his glance.

"No. But you do, don't you?" She walked toward him and leaned her head ever so briefly against his shoulder as she moved past. It was a small gesture, but one for which he was profoundly grateful. She was still _his _master. They were still a very powerful team, and they were still playing the game.

"We should clean this up," he said gesturing to the dead demon in front of him. "He'll fester if we leave him like so for long."

* * *

><p>"Sebastian?"<p>

"Yes."

"What did he mean when he said that Lucifer had special plans for me?" Sebastian was hoping that she'd have forgotten that portion of this morning's interrogation. He should have known better.

"You heard him master. You're an exorcist. He hates all exorcists. The most degrading and painful tortures in Hell are reserved for your kind. But you need not worry about that. When I take your soul, it will be out of his reach." He looked up from the book he was perusing (another obscure magical text) and smiled at her. It was his most seductive smile, and he hoped that she'd abandon the conversation for more pleasurable fare. To his credit, she was momentarily dazzled by the way the firelight danced in his eyes, but knowing him as she did, she knew it was a means of distraction. The prospect of learning one of his many secrets was far too enticing to pass up.

"He also said that he expected you to disrupt Lucifer's plans. Are you enemies?" The smile became plastic on his lips, the playfulness in his eyes died, and she could see the reservation creeping into his limbs. To anyone else, he would appear unchanged, but Alexandra knew she'd touched a nerve and instantly regretted it. She didn't know if she wanted him to answer or not. This was not their usual game.

"We were once intimately acquainted. I suppose you humans would have called us lovers." He pronounced it slowly, with precision, as if an inordinate amount of energy was expended with each word.

"What?" Her propped legs slipped from her desk and she tumbled backwards over her chair. Sebastian was at her side in a heartbeat, catching her before she hit the floor. He smiled indulgently as she recomposed herself. She knew that it was a mark of his comfort with her that he'd reveal something so personal just to throw her off her guard.

"It's a strange story." She righted herself, inclined her head in his direction, propped her long legs on her desk again and crossed them. If he was willing to share, she'd be a captive audience.

"Well, then it won't be the first strange tale I've heard."

"We were angels once." If his confession was surprising, she made no visible sign of it. _He's already won this round_, she thought. Of course she knew that some demons were angels once, but she'd never suspected Sebastian to be one of those who were so brutally cast from Heaven. He'd played his part exceedingly well. There was not one hint of regret, no tiresome reminiscing, no word of bitterness at God. She was impressed. "Angelic love is inexplicable. I don't know if humans could understand it. It's unconditional, exceedingly intense, and all-encompassing. I knew two things; that I loved God, and that I loved him." _He can't say Lucifer's name_, Alexandra thought. Sebastian smiled, but he'd turned away from her to look at the fire blazing in the grate. She could not see that his smile did not reach his eyes. "He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, resplendent and perfect...He still is. But, angels are undone by their own natures. Can you see why master?"

"I think so. They are created to love, but should that love extend to any object beyond God, they are guilty of idolatry."

"You're quite the theologian. Yes, that's the thrust of it. And so because I loved him, I drew God's ire. God is a jealous God, after all. He forbade love between angels when he learned of our relationship. You know what happened next."

"You fell." She whispered it, as if the words themselves were forbidden. Whatever game she thought she was playing ended there. She looked at the creature across the room from her and realized that she knew nothing of him at all. _Some master. _

"Yes. He was able to convince many that such a prohibition was cruel, and that by marching against the throne we could be free from God's cruelty. It was very effective. He recruited legions to our side, but we were defeated...and we fell, and we were changed, just as you said. I'm not sure I can recall the sound of the Seraphim's singing or the color of angels' wings." He finished in a disturbingly matter-of-fact tone. It broke her heart.

"But that's not all, is it?"

"No. I would have been happy to trade Heaven for Hell to be by his side, as my objective was simply to be with him. But I miscalculated the depth of his feelings. I was only a means to an end. He needed a reason to challenge the throne which would be palatable to angels. Love is something they understand instinctively."

"And you lost everything you loved in one fell swoop. I'm so very sorry Sebastian." He nodded, knowing that she was being sincere; after all, had she not suffered the same loss? She was beginning to understand why he was so different from other demons she'd encountered and why they seemed so well-suited to one another. Both knew too well the pain of loss and the lure of vengeance. Both had former lives which remained forever out of their reach. _What a sad pair we make...the jilted lover and the vengeful wife. It has all the makings of a terrible soap opera._ She stood up and wrapped her arms around his back, her cheek resting on his shoulder blade. He clutched her hands at his chest briefly before letting them go and slippling out of her arms.

"Why would you tell me this?"

"Because you asked, and because you should know that not all ends justify the means."

"Sebastian, I..."

He turned abruptly to face her again, his finger under her chin, trademark smirk firmly in place. "It was a long time ago. I have had ages to brood." He kissed her briefly and then let go, his attention absorbed again by the volume he'd been reading.

"Hell must be as torturous for you as it is for the humans trapped there."

"Not really. Demons have freedom of movement and Hell is larger than you can imagine. And remember that I need not be there if I am fulfilling a contract."

"Did you agree to our contract because you knew that snatching my soul from under him would anger him?"

He stopped, considering her question, and she realized that he wouldn't have a satisfactory answer. "In part, I suppose I did. But I also found you compelling. I knew you would be a powerful master worth serving."

"And he won't punish you for your actions?"

"No. He is not God. He cannot punish disloyalty. Hell's rules are not Heaven's. I am not bound by obeisance or fidelity to anyone but my contractor."

"I was right then. You are my savior of sorts. Maybe we ought to try to get your halo back?" She grinned as she said this.

"I think not. Being a demon has its advantages." He looked at her, red flashing briefly in his gaze, and she didn't have to cast her thoughts very far to hit upon his. "And you're free to think what you will, but you should not doubt that I had my own reasons for answering your summons. It would be a grievious error to attribute to me characteristics that I'm incapable of cultivating." He looked serious. "I grow weary of all of this. There are more pressing matters to discuss."

"Like?"

"Like how we're going to destroy Rasputin if he's accrued generations of magical power."

"Hmmm. That's true. We can't win this if we fight fairly."

"Then how can we win?"

"We must stack the odds in our favor. We will steal his magic."


	6. Checkmate

NB: I don't own Kuroshitsuji. I'm sure you're all well aware of that by now.

We're at the end of our journey so allow me this opportunity to thank you once again if you reviewed, faved, or alerted this little tale. If you're reading chapter six, then I thank you for coming along and indulging me. I hope it has been worth your time. If you like this and would like to see something else, I am willing to take requests. I am also soliciting all your reviews (negative and positive), so please let me know what works and what doesn't.

Content warnings for chapter six include violence, gore, blood play, and mild sex. This chapter is also far too long for my tastes, but I had to get it out of my system. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Sebastian had wandered into Isaac's room. Well, to be fair, it was once Alexandra and Isaac's room, but since his death she had moved to the other wing of the mansion, far away from his memory. She did visit the room from time to time, Sebastian knew, but she had not come back since that day in the churchyard. He stood there in the bright, airy chamber watching the sunlight fall in shafts through the high windows. Dust particles swirled in the afternoon light and as he watched them, he searched for a compelling reason for his presence here. Alexandra never expressly forbade it, but Sebastian always felt he would be unwelcome. If he were pressed, he'd likely say that confessing his past to her made him feel too vulnerable for comfort. He wanted to even the score and investigate his master's past. This was partly true; he'd revealed information to her that he hadn't revealed to very many masters. The resulting feeling was insecurity. Sebastian didn't like insecurity. He would also say that the flavor of a soul is greatly enhanced by the demon's understanding of the person to whom it belonged. To understand Alexandra completely, therefore, he would have to acquaint himself with Isaac. <em>Well, I suppose that's reason enough.<em>

The furnishings were covered in sheets, making the room look like it was inhabited by a group of misshapen ghosts. _It is inhabited by ghosts; that's why she doesn't sleep here anymore_. Near the bed, he saw that the sheet once covering the nightstand had been pulled off. The rich mahogany surface was free of dust. Placed upon the nightstand was a single picture frame, and even from across the room he could see Alexandra smiling—not with her usual sarcasm or faraway sadness, but with a wide and rather silly grin. She was covered in what appeared to be whipped topping, and the offending individual was wrapped around her, a demolished cake in one of his hands, her waist in the other. He was handsome, not devastatingly so like Sebastian, but olive-skinned and dark-featured. His green eyes were startlingly bright and alight with mischief as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her icing-covered cheek. _Her birthday. _Sebastian realized that he didn't know her birthday. What other secrets had she kept from him? If, at that moment, he felt a prick of anger, he'd likely say it was a product of a demon's inherent possessiveness. He would not say that he was jealous of the fact that he'd never seen her look as radiant as she did in the picture. He walked across the room, wanting to see it at closer range, and approaching, he saw that the drawer underneath it was slightly ajar. He pulled it open fully and drew out a yellowing sheaf of papers. They were letters. A quick glance told Sebastian that they were from Isaac. His tidy copperplate signature concluded each. They were short, one or two lines at most, and from the dates he knew that Isaac wrote very often. He pulled a random letter from the pile and read it.

_Sasha, There was bridge collapse in Mazatlan today. 87 people died, and as I pulled their bodies from the water, I thought selfishly of you. I'm the world's worst doctor I think, because while others are mired in tragedy, I am on my knees each night thanking God for you and Nikki—that you are alive, that you are at home, waiting, and that you are mine. It will be too long until I return, and until then I'll long only to hold you both again. In the meantime, I've asked John to look after you. All my love, your Isaac._

Sebastian reached for another without thinking about what he was doing.

_Sasha, I'm 'posting' this via Nikki from the drawing room. I am convinced that you are every inch the magician because I have surely been enchanted. Suddenly, I feel that there's too much distance between us. What sort of trick is this? I am not sure how to make amends for last night's quarrel, but I know I'll be very unwell indeed if I don't feel your lips today. It's your turn to play doctor; come downstairs and kiss me. All my love, your Isaac. PS: I'm sorry for being a boor. PPS: May I have a kiss now?_

And another.

_Sasha, Happy Anniversary to you, my excruciatingly beautiful wife. This year, I've planned something different. Nikki has your first clue. He will be your guide through the breadcrumbs I've left, and you'll both meet me at the end of your journey for an unforgettable evening. All my love, your Isaac. PS: Let's put Nikki to bed early tonight; I've planned another series of unforgettable activities__ for the two of us. _

Sebastian would have continued in that manner, randomly reading through all of Isaac's correspondence if the date of the anniversary letter didn't arrest his attention. It was the same date that he and Alexandra initiated their covenant. He sighed, understanding now why she'd been so resistant to his demon's touch_._ He was summoned on a night she expected to spend making love to her husband. Sebastian wasn't an idiot; he was keenly aware that his very presence was a perpetual reminder of the family she lost, but having tangible evidence that Isaac's fingers ought to be tracing lines in Alexandra's—_no, Sasha's_—skin where Sebastian's own did now was a bit more bothersome than he cared to admit. _To what extent does she belong to me if I am only a consolation?_ He shook his head as if to dispel a particularly vivid dream and filed the papers away in the drawer. The flash of heat on the back of his left hand indicated that Alexandra was looking for him. He found her as he expected, sitting at her desk in the library, rifling through a small mound of papers and books.

"I've been looking for you. Where were you?" Her reading glasses slid down to the edge of her nose and she looked at him over the frames. Her smile was genuine, he noticed. Sebastian debated with himself about whether or not to lie.

"I was in Isaac's room." He prepared himself. He'd trespassed, and although she had never punished him during the tenure of their contract despite his constant testing of her boundaries, he was sure her patience did not extend to his imposing upon Isaac's memory. _Her anger will affect the flavor of her soul. That was uncharacteristically careless of me._

She pushed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose and looked at him curiously. He waited for the blow to land. "And why did you go in there?"

"I wanted to understand…" _What?_ He didn't know precisely. He stopped short.

"You wanted to understand. Tell me, Sebastian. What did you find?"

"A love worth Falling for." He hoped that commiseration would dispel some of her anger.

She shook her head. "Sweet words from a demon. But you've always been very good with words, haven't you? What do you want to know? That I love him more than anything, more than the God that stole him even?" She eyed Sebastian defiantly, as if daring him to challenge her. He did not trust himself to speak. "Without him I'm not much more than a shade, a dull shadow of the woman I used to be. Have I Fallen? I suppose so. He was all that was good and pure in me. What's left if he's gone?" The words were sharp, and each worked its way into him like a splinter. "You're quite the piece of work, you know that? You're not remotely satisfied until you have consumed anything and everything within your reach." He motioned to speak, but she held up a stalling hand and he closed his mouth immediately. "I know, I know. It's in your _nature_ to be this way. I think I must be the foolish one because I believed that you..." She stopped herself, sighing resignedly, but Sebastian had a shrewd idea of how she'd have finished and it left a heaviness in his chest. Angry tears were forming in the corner of her eyes. _I should have lied_, he thought. He tried to console her, hoping to quell the argument, but she walked out of his reach when he moved to embrace her. He'd never been the target of her ire. Alexandra generally took his misbehavior in stride, but when she looked at him now, he saw only accusation in her eyes, as if he'd betrayed a confidence he didn't know he was meant to keep. She was ready to rage at him mercilessly, but her voice was sorrow-filled and broken when she spoke. He'd have preferred it otherwise. "Don't you see? You've already won. You have me. Will you have him too?"

"No master. He is forever yours. I will never enter that room again." She made no commands, but as he placed his hand dutifully across his chest and bowed his head, he knew that he would keep his word. He had volunteered his own history after all, and that did not give him leave to steal hers. Had she not yielded to him everything else? She nodded, recognizing the sincerity in his gesture, and the significance of the fact that he'd checked his possessiveness for her sake, even this once.

"Thank you." They remained silent for a long time. Alexandra seemed lost in reverie, and again, Sebastian felt envy creep into his thoughts. He would not have recognized it as such. Finally she sighed and rubbed her face tiredly.

"You were looking for me?" He adopted his most business-like tone in hopes that work would drive the last half hour out of her mind. She nodded, recognizing his desire to put it to rest.

"Yes." The ironic smirk returned to her lips with a vengeance, and Sebastian wondered why he ever thought he'd prefer a silly grin over the deliciously evil smile that she was wearing right now. "I want to confirm a few things with you….about angels and demons."

"Confirm away master."

"Stop calling me master. And are you certain you don't mind talking about this?"

"I've told you already. Demons and angels are separated by more than geographical location. Our essences are fundamentally changed. I do not long for angels' wings. I miss nothing of Heaven."

"Sorry to be repetitive. I wanted to be sure. Demons must devour a soul if they extract it from a human, correct? But angels need not do so."

"Yes. As you know, there are a few practical differences between white and black magic. The use of souls once they're extracted is one such difference. Angels use white magic to carry souls to Heaven. In their care, souls remain intact even outside of a human body. Souls bound for Hell need no otherworldly guide, as the gates to Hell remain forever open. So instead, demons use black magic to devour them, or like our recently deceased friend, in rare cases they can transplant a soul from one human body to another. But this is the limit of their power-a soul must be moved from body to body. Why a demon would expend so much effort cultivating a small and tasteless soul like Rasputin's is beyond my level of expertise." He finished his exposition with a disgusted click of his tongue.

"If a demon could use white magic, could he extract a soul without having to embody it?"

"Theoretically, yes. But even those of us who were once angels lost that kind of magical ability when we Fell. It's impossible."

She clasped her hands together excitedly, light dancing once again in her eyes. "Hmmm." Over a small liquid-filled crystal goblet on her desk, she sliced her palm open with her penknife, squeezing it tightly so that blood dripped into the glass. _Why does all her spellwork involve blood? _Sebastian thought exasperatedly. The blood formed a small cloud of scarlet that swirled lazily in the liquid, eventually turning the whole contents red. It looked like she had liquefied garnets. She lifted it off the desk with her uncut hand and offered it to him. "Drink this." He looked at her incredulously, as if she had offered him wine laced with arsenic. _Not that arsenic would have much effect anyway. _His thoughts were cut short by her mocking."What? You don't trust me? You didn't have any such reservations last night."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead for dramatic effect. She was challenging him, and he was glad to have his sarcastic, playful master back. "You really are the most frustrating of masters. If this is in any way painful, I'll exact a particularly exquisite revenge tonight." He winked roguishly at her and took the goblet from her hand, and with a final wary look at her over its rim, he drained the contents in one go. It left a metallic tang on his tongue and a warm pleasant feeling as it trickled down his throat. The sensation was surprisingly intoxicating.

She peered at him, clearly expecting something to happen. Nothing. The anticipation on her face gave way to disappointment. "Well, I had hoped it would be more obvious than that, but I suppose I have no other choice." She dived into her desk drawer and started rummaging around with her good hand after hastily bandaging the one she'd sliced open.

"Did you hope to transform me into a vampire? I am assuming so, since I feel no change in magical power. And did you clean that wound properly?" She tutted at his sarcasm but made no move to look up.

"It was a Binding, and I'm fine." She was still shifting the contents of the drawer, making small exasperated noises as she searched.

"Like the one John performed?"

"Yes, in that it was designed to aggregate our powers. No, in that this Binding was supposed to be far more effective and less temporary than the one John performed."

"We're both extraordinarily powerful. Why Bind us? What power will we gain that one or the other of us does not already posses?"

"Don't be daft Sebastian. I've just given you the gift of white magic. More precisely, I've given you access to _my_ white magic." He started. He certainly didn't _feel_ like he'd received the light. What exactly was she playing at? He hoped she wasn't planning to emend his demonic nature permanently. She looked up from her searching at his expression and laughed her mellifluous laugh. "Don't worry; I have no intention of trying to get your halo back. I rather like you without it. My plan is to have you extract Rasputin's soul without devouring it."

"That seems rather inefficient."

She nodded. "It is dreadfully inefficient. I could just order you to eat his soul. But, I know what a discerning palette you have, and I'd never ask you to dine on such down-market fare." He was taken aback at the trouble she'd taken to show him this small kindness. She was right; he'd never covet Rasputin's soul. He felt it when he was trapped within the Containment Prism. It was meager, flavored only with rage, and Sebastian was not tempted in the least. It would have been a chore to devour such an insipid meal, and he would have felt the after-effects for years. The fact that Alexandra had planned an alternative helped to ease some of his earlier jealousy. "Also, I need to destroy his soul utterly to destroy the magic contained within it. If consumed, he still exists in some form or another. I don't want to risk a demon gaining his magical powers, even if that demon is you. I'd rather have him eradicated." She continued looking through her desk, but he could hear that her voice had gone temporarily hard. "Ha! Here it is!" She emerged from the desk drawer, clasping the vial of holy water she used to burn Rasputin's demon. He eyed her suspiciously as she poured the contents into another goblet.

"You want me to drink holy water?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I only want you to touch it." He walked towards her, grasped the wrist of the hand holding the glass and kissed her, blowing warmth into her mouth. "That Binding will hardly affect me. You need not worry about transferring energy."

"Prevention is better than a cure." He smiled as he took the goblet from her hand and placed it to his lips.

She slapped her palm over the glass before he tipped it into his mouth. "I asked you to touch it. That could kill you if the Binding didn't work."

"I trust you." He took her hand from the rim of the glass and held it in his free hand as he drained the contents before she had a chance to protest. The bitter liquid caused him to cough violently and he was thrown forward as if his body was trying to reverse the progression of the water down his throat.

"Sebastian!" Alexandra's voice conveyed only terror. "Please God, no." He could hear her voice breaking. She shook him by the shoulder, trying to prop him upright.

"I'm fine. And I assure you God has nothing to do with it." His eyes were watery, and his usually silken voice was rough, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. Relieved arms wrapped around him and he returned the gesture, resting his chin on her head. "How long will I have this power?"

"As long as I am alive for you to draw upon it."

"What if he's contracted another demon? That could disrupt your plans to extract his soul."

"It's doubtful. He's never failed to kill a target, remember. He's confident. He will want to wait for an opportune moment to re-contract. It will give him greater power."

"And the opportune moment would be after he's eliminated you?"

"After he's eliminated the both of us."

"Why didn't he kill you when you broke the Containment Prism? You were weak. He could have finished us then."

"I can't say with any certainty. But, that Prism required a great deal of energy to maintain. Maybe he was weak too. More likely, he just wanted to see what we would do. It was a test."

"Did we pass?"

"With flying colors, especially so after you dispatched his demon. But it's nothing to celebrate. Now he knows we're coming for him, and he knows the extent of our powers."

"You can't just order me to extract his soul, can you?" He sank down on her desk but did not remove his arms from around her. She was forced to sit on his lap. _I feel like a child, _she thought, but she did not move and merely rested her head against his chest.

"No. There will be a fight. He's stayed at Selo because that abandoned palace is a storehouse of magical power. Having lived there for generations, he knows how to manipulate that power. I would be very surprised if he hasn't already crafted a counter-attack."

"You said that we will steal his magic."

"And so we will. But it is a theft not accomplished easily. It will require a price."

"I know you. You have a plan." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. One that will finish him completely if it succeeds." Sebastian loosened his grip and lifted her chin, crooking a finger underneath it. He was expecting a fuller explanation, but she only shook her head. "I think it will work better if you just follow my orders precisely as they are given."

"Don't I always execute your orders with precision?" She smiled warmly at him, admiring the way the sinking sun cast his soft features in hues of red and orange. She kissed his cheek. "When do you hope to accomplish this so-called theft?"

"Tomorrow, Sebastian. It will all be over tomorrow." He knew what those words meant. He'd waited two very long years to hear them. Tomorrow would see the fulfillment of their contract. The light was stolen from his eyes, and Sebastian was horrified to realize that what he felt at that moment did not resemble anticipation at all.

* * *

><p>They were gentle with each other that night, perhaps exceedingly so. Soft caresses gave way to softer kisses, and each time their lips met, they partook of each other as though sampling sin for the first time. Sebastian tried desperately to memorize the slope of her hips and the smell of her skin. He felt her long curls slip through his fingers, and he attempted to discern the shape of each strand of hair. After tomorrow, these memories would be all that were left of her. Hands moved over flesh slow like honey, and when he stole his name from her mouth with his own, he tasted something bittersweet that tugged at his long memory. Had he cast about for it, he would have recognized it in the taste of Lucifer's lips. But he did not, focusing instead on taking with him all he could of his current master. She was very sleepy now. He'd exhausted her once more, and as she curled into his side he found himself committing to memory the fine lines of her face and the precise angle of each eyelash's curve. It wasn't that she was the first master that he'd felt very strongly for. She wasn't the most beautiful of his contractors, either, although she was certainly attractive. There were many humans for whom he'd felt affection and desire. If he were honest, he'd admit that each soul he took from a human took something of him in return. He was not a hopeless romantic, however. The fact that he'd been careful to cultivate unusually strong bonds with his masters meant that the souls he devoured were exquisitely delicious. And sometimes it meant that he found himself dangerously attached to his prey. But even he would not deny that he was particularly fond of Alexandra. Perhaps it was because they were intimately involved (but there had been <em>many<em> others), or that they were very much alike (again, she was not the first), or that she was the first master who had risked her life to save him (_that _was something), or perhaps, it was simply because she had never completely belonged to him despite his best efforts. He could take her soul and taste her flesh, but he'd lost her to Isaac long ago. That she'd prefer the companionship of an ordinary human to all the charms of a demon made Alexandra somewhat of an enigma to him, and Sebastian never stopped being intrigued.

"Master, might I make a suggestion?" The words fell from his lips before he realized what he was about to do, and he could only blame the slip on the murkiness that clouded his thinking after such a satisfying romp.

"Only if you stop calling me master." Her voice was heavy with sleep and her eyes were closed.

"Alexandra." _It sounds like an answer to a million riddles when he says it like that_, she thought. And then she mentally berated herself for being so clichéd.

"Yes?"

"You contracted me to avenge those who hunted your bloodline. Rasputin is not the only one who spilled Romanov blood. He has followers. And you are not the last of your kind."

"You are dangerously close to demonstrating characteristics which you claim you are incapable of cultivating." Neither spoke for a very long time, and he thought she'd fallen asleep, but finally she whispered to him, nuzzling his neck as she spoke. "What will it be like, Sebastian?"

"It will hurt."

"No. What will it be like in Hell? You said I'd be free from Lucifer's torment, but what exactly does that mean?"

"It means you will be with me, part of me, for all time."

"That doesn't sound so bad." He could feel her breath on his neck. She started running her lips back and forth across his skin. Her hand was creeping down his torso, and he hated himself for stealing this moment. He sighed.

"Hell is still Hell, with or without me. Your soul will not be reconstituted into a corporeal form to be tortured, but it will still be damned. Remember how you felt the night that Isaac and Nikki were stolen from you. They are in Heaven now. The separation is unbearable. You'll feel the anguish of their loss a million times over." They fell into another silence and she pressed herself closer to him, as though even whilst touching him she was still too far. _And I won't be able to save you,_ he thought.

"And what will it be like for you?"

"Exceptionally satisfying." He laughed his rich laugh, and she wrapped an arm around his chest and smiled. She really loved that laugh.

"You know what I mean."

"I do. I think it will be lonely. It is always so after I devour a master. But, you will continue to be a part of me, so I expect that in the future I will inexplicably slice my left palm open from time to time, or stab supernatural entities with the heel of my boot, or douse other demons with holy water." He smiled as he thought of these things.

"I would refrain from doing the last. Holy water in Hell seems like a bad idea all-around. Do all demons feel such loneliness?"

"I suppose the ones who've known loss feel it more keenly with each new iteration. We're not human, but we're not without emotion. Have I not demonstrated that sufficiently over these two years?" He pulled her even closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Sebastian, I didn't mean to imply—"

He put a finger to her lips gently and kissed her, leaving his finger in place. "Enough. You should rest. There is much to be done tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Sebastian left her alone for the better part of the next day. They would go after Rasputin that night, so he felt it only right to give her time to say her goodbyes. He circumambulated the manor, considering last night's hesitation about ending their contract. <em>What was I thinking? What kind of demon bristles at gaining a soul? <em>He grew angry with himself for letting yet another master get to him, to soften him. And then he thought about the loss that he would feel upon her death. _What if I extend her contract? A few more years of cultivation will doubtless yield a more satisfying feast. _He became so conflicted that he grew impatient for the night's adventure, knowing that work would put these feelings out of his mind. Evening fell quietly on the Nikolayevich Manor, and he found her standing at her desk, leaning over a sheaf of papers. The usual pile of books had been cleaned off, and Sebastian could see her face reflected in the polished surface. She was inking her signature onto the last of the papers, and after folding the whole stack in thirds, she placed it in an envelope and sealed it. On the front of the envelope, she wrote "Yuri" in her elegant script, and Sebastian realized that she'd just prepared her Will. "Yuri loves this house. I think he should have it. What do you think?"

"I think that is very kind of you."

"It is the least I can do."

"Should I have him bring the car around?"

"I'd like you to drive tonight Sebastian. Is that alright?"

He nodded in that dutiful manner of his and left to bring the car to the entrance of the main house. Sebastian often missed the trappings of yesteryear, but he rather liked driving. It was soothing, and given the tempest that was brewing in his mind right now, he needed all the soothing he could get. She appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, almost skipping down the front steps in what he thought was an inappropriately jaunty manner. Settling herself in the passenger seat, she nodded at the driveway in front of them. He started the car and drove past the gatehouse. Alexandra did not look back as they swept past the gate. She was checking her pockets, confirming their contents. Sebastian drove with surprising caution for a demon, moving through the city at an even pace, tossing glances at her from time to time. She was watching Petersburg go past quietly as she had after she'd freed him from Rasputin's Prism. The city looked even more dilapidated in the nighttime.

"I love this city." She spoke with longing. "Its history, its people. It deserves much more than what it has become." As he watched her, he realized that he knew nothing about her that he had not learned in the past two years. A thousand questions flitted through his mind. When did she come back to Russia? Where did she meet Isaac? What was her favorite food? Color? How was it that destroying demons was something she did with stoic reserve but she'd squeal childishly if a spider crawled across the library floor? He realized how little time he had left, and if he felt regret, he certainly wouldn't claim it as such. He remained silent, however, not wanting interrupt her. She'd been an unusually kind master. He would let her take her fill of the things she loved.

* * *

><p>They pulled up to Tsarskoye Selo, the old home of the czars. It was a ghost town of former Romanov palaces, all abandoned after the fall of the dynasty, but Sebastian knew instinctively the one that was their destination. The Alexander Palace looked sinister at night, as if the evil magician residing within had painted the Neoclassical exterior of the edifice with his own essence. It would have been breathtaking in the daytime. It was a massive structure, and Sebastian knew that at its zenith, it had been the crown jewel of imperial residences. Alexandra stepped gracefully out of the car and smiled up at it enigmatically.<p>

"And so it begins."

"Why did we have to do this in the middle of the night? Wouldn't it be strategically advantageous to attack him during the daytime?"

"Have you ever seen a ghost in the daytime?" She looked at him playfully, and he knew that she wouldn't volunteer any more information. _Why must she always be so frustratingly mysterious? _He shook his head at her and followed her up the steps. Their footfalls sounded like cannon fire in the night. They entered a massive foyer that was pitch black, and as her feet crossed the threshold, blue flames sprung up in the chandelier above them and in the candelabra that hung upon the walls. They were interspersed evenly, leading down very long hallways in either direction, looking like ghosts of proper candles. The trail of flames seemed to go on forever.

"He's waiting." Her voiced was laced with excitement and danger, and Sebastian thought it sounded very sexy.

"That's all well, but how will we find him? This palace is huge, and I suspect he's cloaked himself from me."

"Without much difficulty I imagine." She pulled out a small, translucent white crystal from her jeans pocket and flipped it into the air like one would toss a coin. "_Lux_." It glowed brighter as it rose higher, silently bursting into flames as it reached the height of its trajectory. It showered tiny white sparks all around them. The effect was one of a miniature meteor shower. As the flame arched gracefully back down it stopped in front of her, a small, bright, white fire hanging in mid-air. "_Agete_." It moved forward, seemingly of its own accord, and Alexandra motioned for Sebastian to follow it alongside her.

"Impressive."

"I'm just getting started." She winked at him and drew out of her belt a smallish silver dagger. It glittered too brightly in the immediate light of the white flame, hurting Sebastian's eyes. He wondered briefly how she'd managed to hide it on her person without his noticing. "This dagger is the one that Khionia Guseva used when she attempted to kill the first Rasputin. I thought I'd finish what she started all those years ago." There was a satisfied smile on her face that looked alarmingly maniacal in the magical glow. She plunged the dagger into her wrist, grunting in pain, and she jerked it upward along the length of her arm. The resulting gash spurted blood that splashed the hallway wall with a soft percussion. The blood glittered ominously, a dark red arch on pale paint that looked blue in the low light.

"Master!" Sebastian quickly untied his necktie and grabbed her arm. The knot he tied around her wrist was uncomfortably tight, but he knew that it would not be enough to stem the blood flow. The silk of the tie absorbed her blood, and he saw a crimson stain spreading far too quickly across the fabric.

"Back to master again, are we?"

"Do you intend to kill yourself before you kill him?" He growled at her savagely, his red eyes in the unnatural light looked more menacing than concerned.

"I do intend to kill myself, but not before I kill him. There's an irony in white magic. The strongest kind involves self-sacrifice. Until I die, I will be more powerful than even him." She smiled at him and touched his face with the backs of her fingers.

"So, this was your brilliant plan?"

"And it is _so_ very brilliant." She was _gleeful_, he noted. Sebastian was not at all amused himself, and seeing this, Alexandra relented. "There are no happy endings for those such as you or I. Surely you knew it would come to this." Her brows knit together and her brown eyes narrowed at him. Ever so briefly, there was hurt reflected in her features, but it quickly turned to determination. "And if you keep behaving like so, I'll begin to think that you find me unpalatable. Is that why you're so hesitant, Sebastian?" She removed her fingers from his face and again faced the light. It remained in mid-air, waiting for them to follow.

He shook his head and smiled at her turned back. "Not at all; you are positively ambrosial."

"Okay then, let's go." She walked forward, blood dripping from her wrist, down Sebastian's tie and onto the floor of the hallway. It left a spotty scarlet trail in their wake, and Sebastian unconsciously avoided stepping on it as he followed behind her. He detected soft sounds that seemed to emanate from the walls. They were like the muffled whispers of a dozen or so people gathered in the dark, just beyond his scope of vision. He peered past the light that bathed the two of them, trying to see who or what was causing the noise. Once or twice he was sure he heard footsteps behind him, but when he turned around he saw nothing but shadow. His eyes were playing tricks on him; beyond the light, the darkness seemed _alive_. It looked to his unnatural sight like black water, swirling with small waves and ripples, but when Alexandra's white flame passed by, there was nothing lurking in the shadows. She caught the fascination in his features and chuckled. "This palace has many ghosts. Surely you've come across one or two in your long existence."

"Yes, but they're generally less _reclusive_ than these. In my experience, they like being seen." The harsh whispers had gotten louder as if their owners had ventured closer to the two intruders. The footfall behind them was more frequent, and Sebastian felt hot breath on the back of his neck once or twice.

"I suspect they'll get quite friendly very soon."

Alexandra's white flame turned a corner and they followed. Once again, they found themselves in the ballroom. _How typical, _she thought. The light stopped in the very center of the room, and she held out her unbound hand underneath, cupping her fingers around it. "_Euergete_." It was thrown upward and exploded in a large shower of sparks. The individual sparks seemed attracted to the blue flames that adorned the pillar candles in the chandeliers and candelabra around the room. The meeting of the two flames resulted in a score of small explosions around the chamber-a private fireworks display, and when the sparks died out, Rasputin's barely glowing blue flames were replaced by Alexandra's bright white ones. The ballroom was thrown into light, and Sebastian barely had time to register its beauty before he heard Alexandra's high-pitched scream.

A pale hand curled around her throat, thin and spider-like, capped with dull, yellowing fingernails. Rasputin had taken her by surprise. His waxen face was far too close to hers, rough colorless lips brushing her ear. The face was young, but it seemed plastic. Its dark brows and mustache were too exaggerated. The man looked like he was wearing a Halloween mask. Only the cold black eyes behind the mask seemed alive, and they flashed lethally, looking hungrily at Alexandra. Sebastian moved forward, intending to eviscerate him before he could harm her, but as he lunged he felt a hard tug at his ankle. He tripped in mid-air and collided painfully with the floor. When he looked down he saw that he was being held in place by dense black smoke coiled around his leg like a snake. Attempting to pry the smoky ropes from his body, he found that he could not grip them. His fingers simply slipped through the air as if nothing were there. They coiled tighter around him, and as more tendrils shot towards him from the darkened corners of the room, he felt an increasing sensation of tightness, like someone was trying to squeeze him through a very tiny tube. He gasped for air. _This is ridiculous_, he thought, and he began the shift into his true form. _I'm finished playing around. _He couldn't make the shift. Whatever magic animated the smoky coils did not recognize his considerable dark powers. _This is unexpected. _He looked to Alexandra, hoping that this was part of her so-called brilliant plan_._

"You are very talented, your Grace. But I'm afraid these ghosts only recognize my powers. They are my pets." Rasputin bowed mockingly at Alexandra, hand still clutching her throat. She was looking at him with hate etched in every line of her face and her teeth were bared in a snarl. As he bowed, he jerked her downwards with him and she nearly tripped. He pulled her up again by the throat and laughed evilly as her feet kicked against him hopelessly. It was a dull, hollow cackle. He turned to Sebastian. "This is the second time I find you in my power. You're very beautiful, aren't you? A prize worth fighting for. I think I'll break you in every possible manner before I excise your beating heart, demon." Sebastian growled, but found that one of Rasputin's ghosts had coiled around his throat. His voice was choked before he could utter the threats on his tongue. Rasputin looked again at Alexandra. Tears stung her eyes as she struggled against his iron grip. "You cannot hope to best me here. Here? The palace that I ruled by bending the Tsar to my power? These ghosts have obeyed me for generations." One of her hands was pointlessly clutching at his, her fingernails fighting for purchase against his flesh. Sebastian noticed that the other was wound around the dagger in her belt. _Yes master. Finish him. _Rasputin's eyes never left her face, but his free hand curled slowly around the wrist reaching for it. He lifted her hand out of her belt. She still held the dagger. He looked at it, its luster reflected in his cold eyes, and suddenly it slipped from Alexandra's grip as though an electric current had passed through it.

"A member of the royal family, trying to stab me? Forgive me your Grace, but I thought you'd be more inventive. You are, after all, so very powerful." He licked the side of her face and she tried to shrink away. He ran the hand that was not choking her up and down her body, cupping her breasts roughly and scratching at her thigh. "Maybe, I'll break you too. Yes, you'll pay the full penalty for a failed assassination." Sebastian vowed that he would cut that bastard's tongue out with his own teeth if the opportunity presented itself.

"Failed? Oh, I'm just getting started." Alexandra spoke. The words were choppy and she was clearly having difficulty articulating them, but Sebastian heard the triumph in her tone and prepared himself for a fight. She looked at the ghostly coils that trapped him and whispered to them. "_Lusete_." They unwound themselves quickly from Sebastian and wrapped themselves up into a large black cloud of movement and noise. It remained at bay like an obedient dog. Sebastian lunged forward in an attempt to wrest his master from Rasputin's grasp but she held up her hand to stop him. She was smirking, even with that pale hand clutching her throat. Rasputin's waxen face stretched wide in surprise and his hand fell from her neck. She hit the floor on her knees but when she stood up, she'd comported herself in the most commanding manner possible.

"Impossible."

She rubbed her throat where lately his hand had been and Sebastian saw the beginnings of bruises. He dusted himself off and tugged at his gloves. _Killing this bastard is going to be so satisfying._ Her voice was still roughened, but it was sharp and confident. "Impossible? Not for me. You presume to control the ghosts of _my_ family, to usurp the power of _my_ birthright?" She laughed, high and shrill, and in the ghostly white light she looked deadly. Sebastian had never seen her like this before, and he was thankful not to be on the receiving end of her fury. "I fed them Romanov blood. They're mine now."

"The sacrifice." Rasputin looked from her face to the wrist that had been bound in Sebastian's tie. If he had not noticed it before, he was certainly looking at it with grave concern now. She lifted it and lazily unwound the tie from her wound, letting the strip of silk drop to the floor. Sebastian saw that its dove grey had been completely dyed with crimson. The cut was very deep and blood was still issuing from it in a small trickle. Alexandra brought her wrist to her lips and licked at the wound seductively. "Yessssss." She drew out the word, hissing wickedly as realization dawned on Rasputin's borrowed face.

"You manipulated that other magician to free your protector demon. You sold your soul for your life."

"Is that why you think Sebastian was summoned? To protect me from you?" Another shrill laugh. "I've no interest in self-preservation. I only want you finished."

"_Elthete_." Rasputin spoke desperately at the ghosts that Alexandra had called off Sebastian. They remained a nebulous mass of black, moving and whirling, but they did not heed his order.

"You have no power here anymore."

"_Desate_." Thick tendrils of smoke shot out from the whirling mass at Sebastian's side. They wrapped around Rasputin with ferocity and the magician's howling screams were like music to Sebastian's ears. Alexandra picked up the dagger that she dropped earlier and slid it across the man's throat in one swift motion without any forewarning or preamble. He could no longer scream but his eyes scorched with a blinding rage that would have frightened even Sebastian if it were free to reign. Alexandra pulled a very small glittering cube out of her coat pocket. _Just how many items are in those pockets? _Sebastian's attention was drawn immediately to it. It was transparent with tiny lights sparkling around the outside like it had been strung with faraway stars. He realized that it was a miniature Containment Prism.

"Sebastian, I order you to extract his soul." Sebastian moved forward, thankful for being able to finally join the fight.

"Do I have to taste it?" He asked, repulsed.

"Not if you don't want to. I only ask that you do it in an exceedingly painful manner."

"Gladly." He tugged at the wrist of his leather glove with his teeth, a malevolent smile spreading across his lips, and his blood red eyes lit up viciously. With one hand he grabbed Rasputin's bloody throat, choking him as Alexandra had been choked. He was still very much alive, and Sebastian knew that his hand against the gaping wound at the magician's throat was tortuously painful. He smiled wider. Blood was dribbling out of Rasputin's open mouth and down his chin. Sebastian's eyes bored into the dying man. "You've no idea how much I'm going to enjoy this." His free hand he plunged into the magician's chest with savage swiftness. It made a horrible squelching sound which was drowned out by Sebastian's satisfied growl. Blood poured forth from Rasputin's chest freely now, and Sebastian quickly disengaged himself, not wanting to come into contact with any more of it than was necessary. When he pulled his arm out of the husk of the man who now lay at his feet, it was covered in blood, but amidst the dark, sticky liquid that stained his long fingers was a shining glass-like orb, the size of a marble, lit from within by an eerie blue light. Sebastian eyed it with disdain and arched an eyebrow inquiringly at Alexandra.

"In here," Alexandra held up her Prism and Sebastian dropped the orb into it unceremoniously. He removed his bloody gloves and tossed them onto the dead man's chest. She looked up to the chandelier where her white flames were burning less brightly than they had before. "_Elthete_. _Shibartha_." The room was doused in darkness once more as all of the tiny white flames joined in mid-air and coalesced into one small, but exceptionally bright ball of shining light. It fell into the Prism in Alexandra's hand, and when it made contact with the soul inside, it exploded so forcefully that she was thrown backwards. She landed on the floor and Sebastian rushed to her side, kneeling over her. The spell was completed and the weakness that she should have been feeling all along flooded her body. She swooned, and he gently shook her awake, cradling her head in his hand. Blood pooled around her cut wrist and her breathing was very shallow. He placed an index finger at the base of her neck. Her pulse was thready. She was dying.

"It's finally over. It's time to collect your due."

He blew his healing breath into her mouth. He needed to keep her awake and aware for what he had planned. "It need not be over. Re-contract with me. His followers are still out there. We can finish this. You still have some time."

She pushed a strand of raven hair behind his ear and smiled at the feel of it in her fingers. _Why has he always felt like Heaven? _Blood from her wrist streaked his pale cheek, and he felt its warmth on his skin. "Without his magic, they are no threat. It _is_ finished….and I'm finished as well. And glad of it." Her words were choked by small gasps for air. "Sebastian, take what is rightfully yours. I render it willingly."

"Alexandra, I—" He felt her hand over his mouth. This small act had stolen the remainder of her strength, and saving her life was beyond even his power now.

"Incredible, isn't it? How strongly feelings of possession resemble love?" He looked into her eyes defiantly, wanting to contradict her, to _tell _her, but she kept her hand to his lips. Eventually he nodded his understanding.

"I don't want to condemn you." He took her hand and kissed it, keeping it in his, entwining their fingers once more. There was no comfort to be had in this gesture; the heat was fast fading from her flesh.

"I am already beyond redemption, fit only for Hell. At least allow me to go there with you."

The last feeling she took from the world was the press of his lips against hers_._


	7. Epilogue: En Passant

NB: I don't own Kuroshitsuji. Thank you all for reading through to this epilogue. I hope you've enjoyed this story. I found Sebastian a bit out of character in these last chapters, but I felt like the story called for him to be more human, and so again, I left him on the page as I thought he should be. Do let me know what you think.

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><p><em>She wouldn't have wanted a funeral. She hated funerals. <em>Sebastian stood in the dark mausoleum, absentmindedly watching the sunlight filter through the stained-glass windows. She had been interred quietly with Isaac and Nikki, the grave markers' proximity giving the observer the false impression that the three had been reunited in death. Sebastian knew better. He bent down and placed a bouquet of white roses at the foot of her grave. It was a pointless gesture; the body that lay beneath the stone was not his master, but only an empty shell. Alexandra was with him forever, as much a part of him as his own soul. Even so, he missed her tinkling laugh and her wicked smile. He even missed her incessant sarcasm. There was quite a list of contractors that he missed in profound ways, but she was certainly one of the ones for whom his feelings would never fade. Time would not assuage her loss. Other contracts would not diminish her memory. _Everything changes but I remain._ He rubbed his face tiredly. _Some existence._

"So, it's a rumor then. A demon _can_ stand on hallowed ground." Deep in thought, Sebastian did not hear the approaching footfall.

"Yuri. How are you? And how long have you been watching?"

"I'm doing better than you. You look like Hell." He chuckled softly at the horrible pun. "And I've seen enough to allay my suspicions about you."

Sebastian sighed wearily. Loneliness is the demon's constant companion. After all, who could understand such a creature? Human life is a fleeting thing. Transient beings could never appreciate the burden of immortality. _Condemned to being haunted by memories for all eternity...maybe this is the real Hell_. But maybe Yuri would understand. After all, he cared for her too. "I miss her. I know she is with me always, but not being able to touch her or see her is more difficult than I anticipated." He stopped, but having said as much, he allowed himself to continue musing aloud. "It is always more difficult than I anticipate. One would think I'd have grown accustomed to loss by now." He looked across at Yuri and carefully crafted his next words. Alexandra would not want him to insult Isaac by placing claims on his wife. "I suppose she was never really mine to miss—not like other contractors anyway."

"Do you think so?"

"She belonged completely to someone else. I was a consolation, a means to an end. I could never replace Isaac." He turned his attention again to the grave makers.

"No you could not. And you never did. But she loved you too, I suppose, in whatever way she could after his death."

"Mistaking kindness for love is something only humans would do." Yuri rolled his eyes. Sebastian continued brooding, his elegant features furrowed, his eyes cool and brown. Yuri thought the demon was being rather melodramatic. _He thinks he's so tragically misunderstood. It's like no other creature could ever understand loss quite so keenly as he does. God I hate demons. They're so hopelessly misguided. _

"She gave you her soul, did she not?"

"We had a contract. It was an obligation."

"And you think God would condemn her after she sacrificed herself to destroy someone as evil as Rasputin? I think not. She chose Hell over Heaven to keep her promise to you. It was a show of fidelity."

"Why would she do that?"

"Perhaps she thought that a creature so long-suffering and broken deserved some small kindness in an existence bereft of it. More likely she thought you needed to be reminded that love requires more than possession. You know better than most how damnably utilitarian she was in her methods. All means were justified by her ends."

"Perhaps it has escaped your notice Yuri, but I am very much in possession of Alexandra's soul. If anything, choosing to remain with me is antithetical to your assertion."

"But you are not very much in possession of _her_, are you? Not completely. You said so yourself - she belongs to Isaac." _He's really quite daft, _Yuri thought exasperatedly.

Sebastian bristled. _An_ e_ternity of suffering for a misplaced attempt to teach a demon about love? Ridiculous. _It was true that she considered all things, her very life even, as assets she manipulated to serve her purposes. But even his hopelessly reckless master could not be that nihilistic. "That is ridiculous. There was no choice involved. God abandoned her two years ago. Why would He deign to save her now? Heaven was no longer an option after she summoned me."

"How very narcissistic you are, to think that you, a demon, could alter the will of the Almighty. How do you know that you weren't part of His plan, that He might use you without your knowing?"

"Trust me. God would never use me to achieve His ends. We're not on particularly collegial terms.

Yuri snorted. "And you're privy to the Almighty's thoughts, are you? Does He consult with you, then?"

Sebastian was getting tired of theology. "But why? Why not send an angel to save her instead of leaving her to a demon to be damned?"

"How the Hell should I know? Mysterious ways and all that. Maybe His grace extends to the Fallen. Maybe _she_ was sent to save _you_. Salvation is much more than where you go when you take your leave of this earthly realm. By keeping her promise to you she brought with her a tiny spark of kindness even to Hell. Maybe He knew the choices she'd make. I bet that never penetrated that pretty head of yours."

"I've heard enough." Sebastian knew his master well. Yuri was mistaken. "Alexandra would never have _chosen_ Hell if she could be reunited with Isaac and Nikki in Heaven."

"Again you miss the mark. I don't think Sasha ever stopped blaming herself for their deaths. She was _your_ master. Did you not comprehend the overwhelming weight of her guilt? She'd have felt like an intruder in Heaven. Besides, after their deaths she was already in Hell. I often tried to tell her of God's saving grace, but she could be quite intransigent you know." He turned on his heel with a final glance at the confusion flitting across Sebastian's face.

"How would you know all of this?" Sebastian called to his retreating form.

Yuri's laugh brimmed with amusement. "You are not the only one who knows a trick or two."


End file.
